The Happy Medium Universe
by Eian Flannagan
Summary: A universe in which Trip and T'Pol go through the process of merging their lives in an effort to prove emotion and logic can exist in harmony without sacrificing what it means to be either Human or Vulcan.
1. Perpetuating the Misunderstanding

**Perpetuating the Misunderstanding**

By Eian Flannagan

Disclaimer: Paramount owns the sandbox. I'm just taking a shovel to it.

Spoilers: _Impulse, Bound, Terra Prime_

Summary: Picks up immediately where _Terra Prime_ leaves off. This is just a dialogue to get them back on the path to a "happy medium."

Archive: None without author's permission

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Trip didn't know how long they sat there in the silence. Long enough for his tears to dry, that's for sure. Minutes. Hours. It didn't matter. What mattered to him were Vulcan females. Two in particular. One Vulcan/human hybrid, one purebred. One he lost, one he was determined _**not**_ to lose.

T'Pol had a headache. Her grief was on the verge of being overwhelming. She had been trying to meditate, but the grief she was feeling from Trip, in combination with her own, made it impossible. It had overwhelmed her to the point of tears. That and the effort it took to maintain her mental shields to keep him from feeling her powerful emotions, were causing severe cranial discomfort.

Trip glanced over to his right, taking in T'Pol's profile, and immediately, subconsciously, recognized the minute indicators of a Vulcan in pain. _**His**_ Vulcan in pain. He let go of her delicate hand, leaving it resting on his thigh, only to reach up to her neck and gently press the correct neural nodes along her spinal column.

T'Pol exhaled quietly in relief. How he knew of her headache, she was not sure. She slowly turned her head to look at him, his hand still cool against her neck. She said nothing, just gazed thoughtfully at him, her face a picture of Vulcan composure.

Trip gazed back. When she remained silent, he canted his head slightly to the left. "What'sa matter?" he softly asked. "Did I do it wrong?"

"No." Her eyes blinked slowly. "Your technique was flawless."

Trip's thumb gently brushed the skin below her left ear. "Then what's wrong?"

She suppressed a shiver as his thumb again swept across the sensitive flesh under her ear. T'Pol closed her eyes. "How did you know to do that?"

Gathering that she wanted to know _**why **_he'd just performed the neuropressure, he frowned. "You were hurtin', darlin'. What was I suppose ta do?"

T'Pol opened her eyes to gaze upon him again. Her features softened. "The bond?"

Trip looked away in thought, realizing she wanted to know how he knew of her headache. After a moment, he shook his head. "No, not the bond. I just looked at you…and I knew." He smiled weakly at her. "I just know you, darlin'."

T'Pol cocked an eyebrow at him in bemusement.

His lips twitched again. "I've had a lot of practice readin' you," he admitted dryly. He looked away, frowned, and turned back to her. "Now that you mention it, why didn't I feel that through the bond?" His expression turned to puzzlement.

T'Pol mentally winced. Not sure she was up to the coming conversation, she hesitated. She was aware she and Trip needed to talk about the bond and what it meant to be "bonded" to one another. She'd, in fact, had every intention of having that discussion with him days ago, ever since that moment in the corridor after the Orion incident when he'd told her they "had a lot of work to do." As it turned out, repairs and preparations for the delegation had conspired to keep them from speaking of it.

Then came Paxton. And Terra Prime. And Elizabeth.

And suddenly, T'Pol didn't want to wait anymore. This human was her bondmate. It was an inescapable fact, and she owed him a full explanation of the ramifications to that.

She lifted her hand from his leg to her neck, gently taking hold of his hand once again, the IDIC pendant still clasped between them. She brought their joined hands down to rest, this time, in her lap where she gazed at them sightlessly. She felt Trip lean forward slightly.

T'Pol turned her head toward Trip but kept her gaze downcast. "Trip," she paused before continuing softly. "May we speak?"

Trip's brow furrowed while he puzzled over her question. Since they were already talking, he figured she meant something deeper. And coming from T'Pol that usually meant their relationship. He sat thinking for a couple of minutes before he realized that he was ready to speak, think, and worry about something else. He was okay with putting Elizabeth on one of his mental "back burners" for a little while.

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "Yeah, I think I'd like that," he murmured. He scooted his backside forward and turned so he was facing T'Pol. She accommodated his need for direct contact by turning herself more in his direction, their hands still clasped between them. It was at that point he noticed her eyes had a green-tint to them, matching his own reddened ones. He was shocked to realize she'd been crying recently.

T'Pol really had no idea where to start. She mentally cast about for a starting point, finally settling on the basics. She looked down at their joined hands and ran her thumb across his knuckles, subconsciously noting the pale, tiny scars from wounds past. She had long been fascinated by his hands. So large compared to her own, they almost appeared clumsy when, in fact, they were so often graceful given the work he did daily. They were an odd combination of strength and gentleness, very much like the man to whom they belonged. "Do you know why Vulcans suppress their emotions?" she asked softly.

Trip watched her trace over his knuckles, watched her take hold of his hand with both of hers, and watched her run her fingers over his palm slowly. Her touch was light, soothing. At her question, he looked up at her face. Her eyes were still focused down as he answered, "I guess I just thought your physiology made it so you couldn't physically handle 'em, but truth is I never really gave it a whole lotta thought." He sighed in self disgust. "Guess I shoulda, though. Seein's how it's such an important part of who ya are as a Vulcan. Some S.O. I am, huh?" He shook his head. "Sorry."

T'Pol made a small sound of disagreement and gave his hand a squeeze. "It was just a question, not meant as criticism. I was merely attempting to establish a starting point for this discussion." She paused as she thought back over his comments. Her brows dipped low in confusion, then quickly cleared to blank Vulcan stoicism. She peeked up at Trip and cocked one of those brows in question. "S.O?"

Trip smiled wryly. "Significant Other." He gave a self-conscious shrug, looking away in a fit of shyness. "It's how I started thinkin' of myself after you told me 'bout the bond. 'Cause I wasn't real sure what that made me…in relation to you, that is." He rubbed the bridge of his nose with his left hand, wincing slightly at the pull on his injured shoulder. "I was just hopin' the bond made me 'significant' somehow," he muttered sheepishly. He looked back down at her hands, which, to his disappointment, had stopped moving over his.

T'Pol mentally chastised herself for letting this man suffer needless insecurities. Her expression again softened as she gazed at him. "Bondmate," she whispered.

Trip's gaze shot up.

T'Pol met it without flinching. "You are my bondmate, Trip. That is the Vulcan terminology."

Trip offered her a small, sweet smile. He liked the way the word sounded. "Bondmate," he echoed quietly.

His bondmate raised her brow at him. "It is _**significant**_ by Vulcan standards."

His smile grew. "Yeah?"

Her lips twitched as she suppressed a smile. "Indeed," she confirmed.

Silence descended between the two. T'Pol resumed the stroking of his palm. After a few short moments, Trip tilted his head. "Why do Vulcans suppress their emotions, T'Pol?"

She blinked slowly at him. "To allow them free rein would destroy us."

Trip frowned. "Why?"

"Three thousand years ago, the Vulcan people did fully express emotion." She saw Trip's eyes widen. She continued, "It nearly made them extinct." It was almost as though she could _see_ him thinking as his head tipped to the side, his tongue running across the inside of his cheek.

"Why?" he again asked thoughtfully.

T'Pol just looked at him, thinking of the best way to explain. Moments later it came to her. She raised her chin. "You and Mr. Reed are friends, yes?"

Trip was beyond curious now. "Yeah. Gotten ta be pretty close friends after everything that's happened. Why?"

T'Pol canted her head again. "Did he ever describe the events that occurred when we encountered the _Seleya_ in the Expanse?"

"Sure," Trip replied quietly. "Said those Vulcans were actin' pretty crazy. Outta control and such."

"Those Vulcans," she explained with intensity, "had been stripped of their emotional control by the affects of Trellium-D." She saw his eyes widen in growing understanding. "Unsuppressed, Vulcan emotions are too intense to manage. They cause us to revert to a primitive state, focusing only on primitive needs. Any obstacles to meeting those needs are met with primitive force. Three thousand years ago, Vulcans slaughtered each other."

Trip nodded, developing a vague understanding. "Then Surak brought enlightenment with the logic and all?"

T'Pol was pleased with her bondmate's intelligence, how he quickly grasped the finer points of her explanation without needing gratuitous details. "Yes."

Trip grinned. "So your emotions are bigger'n mine." His grin grew as her ever-expressive eyebrow rose high on her forehead. He could feel her amusement, whether through the bond or just because he could read her like a book, he didn't know. He just knew she was amused by him. He squeezed her hand. "You're just dyin' to laugh at me right now, aren't ya? Come on, admit it!"

T'Pol felt a rush of bittersweet emotion sweep through her when she saw him smiling and joking. She was pleased to ease his pain, even if only for a moment. She rewarded him by letting a large burst of her mental joy flow out through her shields and rejoiced at his subsequent laughter.

An awed expression crossed Trip's face. "Is that you?" he asked as the wave of joy flooded his mind.

T'Pol nodded shyly, dropping her gaze back to her lap.

Trip leaned forward. "Why can't I feel that kind of stuff from you all the time? Usually its just vague stuff that I have to concentrate really hard on figuring out. What's up with that, T'Pol?"

She brought her gaze back up to meet his. "My mental shields are raised to prevent my emotions from reaching you."

He was unable to hide his faint hurt and disappointment. "Why?"

T'Pol was startled by his disappointment. Could he actually _want_ this bond?

He paused and a look of worry flashed across his face. "Oh, God. Will it cause ya to lose control of your emotions? Will ya start actin' like those Vulcans on the _Seleya_ if ya drop your shields?" Now he was worried about her, his worry causing his accent to thicken. His eyes narrowed in thought. "That can't be right, though. I've seen your emotions a bunch of times, even if ya didn't want me to. You weren't outta control then."

She gave a minute shake of her head. "It would, more than likely, actually help me to lower my shields." Her control wavered, allowing a sigh to escape. She turned her head away and whispered, "It is quite exhausting maintaining them permanently."

Trip pulled his hand out from under hers in order to reach up and turn her head back toward him. "Then why, darlin'?"

T'Pol closed her eyes and whispered, "I did not think you wanted this bond. You said it wasn't a 'big deal.' I raised them to protect you from the bond's effects."

Trip groaned and tipped his head back. "Darlin', if there's anything you an' I have done right, relationship-wise, it's perpetuatin' misunderstandin's."

She raised her soulful, pleading, big, brown eyes to his. He gently speared his fingers into the hair above her ear, cupping her head in his hand as he drowned in her gaze. "I love you. I'm _**in**_ love with you. Have been for over a year." He smiled as her eyes widened in shock at his blunt declaration. "Anything, and I mean _**anything**_, that brings me closer to you…I want."

T'Pol just blinked at him. She was flooded with so many emotions she couldn't possibly categorize them all. It took every ounce of her Vulcan will and mental fortitude to suppress them. She leaned slightly into his hand.

Trip could read a wealth of emotions in her eyes. Years of experience made him an expert on the miniscule signs. He could also feel a hodgepodge of emotions through the bond, too rapid to catch hold of, one right after the other. He lightly scratched her scalp. "When I said the bond wasn't a 'big deal'," he murmured, "I meant that it wasn't anything I was gonna get upset over. I was totally okay with it. I _**am**_ totally okay with it." His brow furrowed as a thought crept up on him. "Are _**you**_ okay with it?" he asked anxiously.

T'Pol could not suppress the half-choke, half-gasp that escaped from deep in her throat. She stared at him in disbelief, unable to fathom how he could think she _**didn't**_ want the bond. She'd practically begged him to return to _Enterprise_! She'd kissed him in a public location! She'd spent the last hour holding his hand! She was, even now, engaged in what amounted to an intimate embrace for a Vulcan!

Trip sighed and muttered dryly, "That was a stupid question, wasn't it? Ya probably wouldn't have asked me ta stay or kissed me in the hall otherwise, huh?" He gave her an abashed smile.

T'Pol blinked in relief. Her faith in his intelligence was not misplaced after all. She briefly looked away before leaning forward completely into Trip's body, knowing instinctively that he would support her. She buried her face in the space where his neck met his shoulder, making sure to avoid his wound.

Trip enveloped her with his good arm, hugging her tight to him.

T'Pol's voice was muffled when she unequivocally stated, "I, too, want this bond," her voice soft and low.

But he heard her. He pulled back far enough to see her face. He slowly moved in, giving her all kinds of time to back away. When she didn't, he continued until his lips pressed lightly against hers. Unlike their last kiss, this one was delicate, soft…affirming.

After a long moment, Trip pulled back a fraction. Eyes closed, he whispered against her lips, "Drop your shields, darlin'."

---END

08/06/08


	2. Not Close Enough

**Not Close Enough**

By Eian Flannagan

Disclaimer: Paramount owns the sandbox. I'm just taking a shovel to it.

Spoilers: _Impulse, Bound, Terra Prime_

Archive: None without author's permission

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Trip and T'Pol sat together on her bunk after finally realizing they both wished to keep the bond that had formed between them. Trip was desperate to help T'Pol deal with her grief over losing Elizabeth, knowing it would help him, too. He needed to get her to lower her mental barriers.

After a long moment, Trip pulled back, a fraction, from her kiss. Eyes closed, he whispered against her lips, "Drop your shields, darlin'."

"I'm not sure that's wise," she murmured back.

"Why not?" He pulled back further. "You said yourself it'd probably help you."

T'Pol allowed a sigh to escape because she was, after all, in the presence of her chosen bondmate. Not to mention she was as emotionally and mentally fatigued as she'd ever been. She leaned forward again, coming to rest, this time, with her forehead against his throat. "In our current conditions, it could prove to cause more harm than good," her voice muffled against his skin. "You are exhausted." Her light breaths tickled his flesh. "_**I**_ am exhausted," she finished plaintively.

Trip nuzzled his face into her silky hair. "S'true," he agreed softly.

They sat holding onto one another for another unmeasured amount of time. Eventually, Trip broke the silence.

He pressed his lips to the crown of her head, an unconscious gesture of naked affection. "How do Vulcans grieve, T'Pol?" he asked, his innate curiosity warring with his need to give _**and**_ receive solace.

"We meditate," she whispered, causing a shiver to run through Trip as her lips brushed against his throat.

Trip pulled back in agitation, his hand once again cupping her head. "But you haven't been meditatin', darlin'!" he worried.

This time it was T'Pol who pulled back. _**All**_ the way back, breaking his hold on her. Eyes wide in consternation. "How are you aware of this?" her tone one of bemused frustration.

Trip gently grasped her chin and pulled her focus back to him. His lips twisted into a quirky, sheepish grin. "I haven't been in your white space in _days_. Last time that happened was almost a week ago, when I was sleepin'." He frowned at her. "Why aren't you meditatin', baby? You _**need **_it. You need to grieve!"

T'Pol briefly closed her eyes. "I am unable to maintain my shields while sleeping or meditating."

Storm clouds rose on Trip's face. "Do you mean to tell me you haven't allowed yourself to sleep or meditate," anger coloring his words as he jumped up and began pacing the room, "haven't allowed yourself to _**grieve**_, for cryin' out loud!" He wheeled back toward T'Pol, "been lettin' yourself _**suffer**_ just to keep me from bein' affected by the bond?" He was so mad he could hit something.

Another few seconds passed before he spun back around and landed on his knees in front of her. "I don't _wanna_ be protected, T'Pol." He grabbed her hand. "I. Want. _**You**_. That means everything that comes with you, darlin'! The good, the bad, the bond, the stoicism. I want the superiority complex. The mysticism. The smarts, the beauty, the frustration, the grief! Call me a greedy human, but I want it _**all**_."

Though she concentrated as hard as she was able, she could not prevent the tears welling in her eyes.

Trip met her watery gaze head-on. "Drop 'em." His tone firm and insistent.

T'Pol wavered, closed her eyes. Who could resist this man? He cared so completely. Her emotional control could not withstand his loving assault. So she dropped them.

And they slammed into her unprepared bondmate with hurricane force. He gasped and gripped her hand hard, his eyes closed tight. She felt him start to tremble, watched as he slipped sideways to sit fully on his bottom, on the deck, leaning against her legs. He cut off a groan before it could fully materialize, but she knew he was struggling.

"Don't you _dare_ raise 'em," he ground out through clenched teeth, sensing she was about to do just that. Oh, _god!_ Her emotions were so huge! Her grief all-powerful. Her love for him all-encompassing. Her fear of hurting him. Her frustration. Her shame. Her fatigue. Again, back to the love. How was she able to hide this from him? How did she function? Tears escaped from under his eyelids as he tried to sort through the maelstrom.

"_Trip,_" she pleaded.

"No!" He shook his head. "This is _you_, darlin'."

"I am hurting you."

"No, baby," he whispered, "don't think that." His eyes were still tightly closed, his body coiled tightly against her legs, hand tightly gripping hers. "Just…come down here."

She didn't know what it would accomplish, but if Trip needed her down on the deck with him…she didn't hesitate. She ended up behind him as he leaned back into her chest, curled up into her, snug against her body. She let instinct guide her into wrapping her arms around his torso. Her left snaked under his sling to curl around his belly, her right slipped over his right shoulder to grip his upper chest, pulling him yet tighter against her. She rested her cheek against his head.

And still he trembled. "Need…," he muttered.

T'Pol rubbed her hand over his chest, attempting comfort. "What do you need?"

"Need to be…closer," he gritted out.

T'Pol frowned. She saw and felt the lack of space between them. "We are very close already," she stated in bewilderment.

"Not. Close. Enough. Can't explain it," he gasped. "Just feel this…overwhelming need…to be closer." He choked on a laugh. "I have…no idea… what I'm talkin' 'bout."

T'Pol was desperate to help him, but he didn't want her to raise her mental barriers. She wasn't sure what else she could do. Though after a second of thought, she realized there _was_. She was just afraid he wouldn't be willing.

"Oh, man!" Trip moaned. "What just spiked your fear, darlin'?" He clenched his teeth again. "That one's a…doozy…whatever it is."

"There is," T'Pol hesitated, "one way to be closer, ashayam. My fear is that you will not want to do it."

"Anything…I trust ya…y'know that." Her emotions were simply staggering in their intensity. He'd really had no idea.

"It is _**intimate**_, Trip," she stressed.

If possible, he leaned even further into her body. "Ya mean…intimate…like the bond?"

"More so," she whispered. "I will know all of your thoughts. You will know all of mine."

"Sounds…good…ta me," he muttered. "I'm all for it…if you are." He couldn't stop shaking. He just had this compulsive urge to get closer to his bondmate. He didn't understand it, and didn't even try to. "Love you," he mumbled.

"And I, you," she softly replied for the first time, no longer seeing the need to hide what he could so obviously feel through their bond. She gently turned his body around to face her, propping his back up against her bunk. She felt him panic at what he perceived to be her withdrawal, as their physical contact diminished. She quickly moved his legs so they stuck straight out, climbed over him so she could straddle his waist, tugging up on her robes to make it possible.

Though still present, Trip's panic did ease somewhat when she climbed into his lap. They were now face to face, chest to chest.

T'Pol raised her right hand to the contact points on his face. "Are you able to copy my movement?" she asked gently.

Trip nodded once and raised his hand to her face. He watched her adjust his fingers to the proper placement, then watched her close her eyes.

T'Pol emptied her mind as much as she was able, given all that had happened and was happening. "My mind to your mind…" She felt a stirring in her mind, not unlike their bond "tingle." "My thoughts to your thoughts…" The tingle grew to a buzzing. She was amazed at how much easier it was melding to her bondmate than it was to Ensign Sato. "Our minds are merging…" She felt his presence grow stronger in her mind.

"Our minds are one."

"Our minds are one."

They spoke the final words as a single entity as they found themselves standing together in T'Pol's white space. Trip was amazed at how much better he felt in just the seconds it took for her to initiate the meld. He was still being buffeted by her emotions, but her orderly Vulcan mind was calming them in his own, allowing him to focus on two things. First, to his great sorrow, he realized that her grief over losing Elizabeth was absolutely _crushing_ her. He couldn't fathom how she remained standing. And second, her fear was amplifying _all_ of her emotions to uncontrollable proportions.

He walked up and took her into his arms, enveloping her in soothing embrace. She buried her face into his chest, noting that his shoulder was not injured in their mental landscape. She encircled his waist with her arms, leaning into him heavily.

Trip understood that this mental T'Pol was holding herself up only through sheer stubbornness. He placed a kiss to her temple and asked, "Is this white space the calmest place for you to be? Will it help you more'n any other?"

This T'Pol was too tired and numb to move away from him to answer, so she mumbled into his skin. "There is one other."

Trip looked into her mind and found the places that gave her comfort, healing, calm. He knew immediately when he came across the place to which she referred. He drew the memory forward and, seconds later, they found themselves in T'Les's garden, at T'Pol's family home on Vulcan.

He led her around to the terrace where meditation pillows were set up, then helped her sit down. Rather than taking a place across, he moved around to sit behind her, his legs bracketing her hips, his hands on his knees. T'Pol approved whole-heartedly of this arrangement, even allowing herself to lean back into him.

Trip moved his arms to encircle her tiny waist, pulling her deeper into the vee of his legs. He placed his lips to her ear and whispered, "What are you so afraid of? I'm feeling all this fear from you, and it's the only emotion of yours I don't understand."

T'Pol turned her head to the side in order to look into his beautiful blue eyes. "I fear overwhelming you, hurting you. There is nothing I wouldn't do to keep you from harm." She placed her hands over his. "You are my chosen bondmate," she finished softly.

Bemusement crossed Trip's face. "Darlin', you're in my mind. You can tell you're not hurtin' me. True, I was overwhelmed earlier, but you can tell that's better, too. There's no logic in being afraid of something that's not true. There's nothing to be afraid of. That fear is what was makin' the rest of your emotions so staggerin'. You cut that out, we can deal with the rest."

T'Pol just looked at him, assessing his comments, realizing his truth. Slowly, she saw the logic in his words, and the fear receded. Once that happened, she felt Trip sigh in relief as her mind calmed considerably.

He squeezed her middle. "Better. I think the only thing left to process is the grief."

T'Pol sadly nodded. "That will take time."

Trip reached up and ran a finger down her cheek. "Always does, sweetheart. No more skippin' sleep or meditation, ya hear?"

T'Pol's lips twitched. "Agreed."

Trip looked around the terrace. "Kinda nice here, T'Pol. Never told you, before, how much I liked your home."

T'Pol tilted her head. "It pleases me, as well."

His blue eyes twinkled. "Know what else is nice?"

She just raised an eyebrow at him. Which he absolutely adored. And she knew it! Because of the meld, he discovered that she knew how great a kick he got out of her zingin' him with an eyebrow.

Trip chuckled. "You were right, darlin'. This _is_ intimate. And I _**like**_ it. Kinda wish we could be like this all the time."

"You would miss your engines," she dryly replied.

He just chuckled again. "Ya know what I mean."

T'Pol tipped her head again in agreement. "There is a way to maintain this connection after the meld."

Trip's eyes gleamed. "How?" he eagerly asked.

"The _telen_."

"The Bonding?" Trip saw T'Pol's surprise. "Translatin' Vulcan's easy when I'm in your mind, T'Pol."

"Indeed." She looked deep into his eyes and explained, "The _telen_ will form a permanent mating bond between us. It will make the bond we currently have permanent."

"You mean it's not already?" he puzzled.

"No. It can still be severed by a Vulcan priest, but the _telen_ will strengthen it to the point of being unbreakable. You would be bound to me for the rest of your life." She tightened her hold on him. "I would always know all of your thoughts. You would always know all of mine. You would never be alone in your head again if the bond becomes permanent. The _telen_ would turn what we have into a full-fledged mating bond."

Trip grinned. "T'Pol."

"Trip."

To her consternation, he began chuckling. "Are you asking me to marry you?"

T'Pol's eyes widened. For such an illogical human, his thought process was amazing. Her gaze dropped away from his. "By Surak's standards, I suppose I am." She rubbed her hands across his in nervousness then peeked up at him through her lashes. "Will you?"

Trip just gifted her with the tenderest of expressions. "Oh, yeah. Heck yeah."

T'Pol's face softened, and Trip had no trouble seeing the joy in her eyes. She turned within the vee of his legs so she faced him, throwing her legs over his. She lost herself in his gaze, falling into the pool of blue. Her love for him filled the space around them. She reached up and placed her hand over his heart.

"_**Parted and never parted…never and always touching and touched.**_"

From her mind, he understood he was to repeat the vow.

"_**Parted and never parted…never and always touching and touched.**_"

And from her mind, he understood that by Surak's teachings, they were now wed. He smiled sweetly at his wife. "I love you, T'Pol."

T'Pol nodded. "And I you, Husband."

Trip grinned and pulled her to him, wrapping her up with his arms and legs. Unable to contain himself he looked up at the mental sky and shouted in joy.

T'Pol cherished his happiness. She leaned in and kissed him, lingering for a few moments.

"Hey, T'Pol?" Trip mumbled against her lips.

"Yes?"

"When I said I had an overwhelming need to be closer?" He felt T'Pol nod. He sighed in exquisite pleasure. "This is what I meant."

T'Pol pulled back and cupped his face in her hands. "Husband, you will _**never**_ again have cause to claim we are not close enough."

Trip smiled. "I'm good with that."

---END

08/08/08


	3. Saying Goodbye and Hello

**Saying Goodbye…as well as…Hello**

By Eian Flannagan

Disclaimer: Paramount owns the sandbox. I'm just taking a shovel to it.

Spoilers: _Impulse, Bound, Terra Prime_

Archive: None without the author's permission

NOTE: Going forward, italics will represent mental conversation unless otherwise part of an obvious verbal dialogue.

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T'Pol reclined against her bondmate, their combined presence almost a palpable entity, like the beating of butterfly wings upon her skin. And it was unlike anything she'd ever felt before. Part of her wondered if all mind melds between bondmates were like this or if this one was different because one half was human. It was evident the mental environment was different. Trip's thoughts were chaotic and disorganized, yet also surprising. She had not expected to find part of his mind to be fascinatingly logical. It was quite shocking to discover logic of any kind in her bondmate's mind. Yes, he was an intelligent representation of his species, but he was still an emotional, illogical human! She knew he was amused at her ruminations, she could sense his pleasure at surprising her. She felt him press a kiss to her nape and looked up in response.

"We probably need to leave here so you can meditate, right?" Trip looked around wistfully at their soothing mental landscape, T'Les's terrace providing a peaceful respite from what awaited them "outside."

T'Pol nodded. "But we can return." She reached up and ran two fingers down Trip's cheek. "In either another meld or in reality."

He sighed. "Ok." No sooner did he speak than they were back in T'Pol's white space. Trip stood up, pulling her with him. He stood there looking down at the non-floor, hands stuffed into his pockets, a picture of dejection.

T'Pol found this curious. "What troubles you, ashayam?" She was too tired to filter through his jumbled thoughts to find the answer herself.

Trip looked up, brows furrowed, head tipped slightly to the side. "Beloved?" he quickly translated in mild disbelief.

T'Pol frowned in confusion. "You are such to me."

Trip's lips twitched. "Well, yeah, I know," he muttered bashfully. "Just never expected you to use a term of endearment."

"And I will not in front of others," she warned. She crossed her arms over her chest.

Trip walked up to her and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Noted." He cupped her face in his hands. "What makes you think I'd ever expect ya to anyway? I've got no interest in changing who you are. I fell in love with a Vulcan." He smiled. "An unusual Vulcan, sure, but still a Vulcan," he teased.

"I am fortunate," she dryly replied.

"T'Pol, I…," he hesitated. "I'm afraid we'll lose this once you break the meld. I'm gonna miss it."

T'Pol frowned. "I have already told you we will not. The _telen _allows us to maintain this closeness always. Your fear is illogical."

"But I'm human. It might only work that way for Vulcan couples."

"There is only one way to find out." And that was the only warning he got as she broke the meld.

T'Pol closed her eyes, and the white space disappeared. She felt her forehead pressed to Trip's, her hand on his face, his on hers. She opened her eyes to find his brilliant blue ones staring back at her.

His hand slipped from her face to the back of her head, pulling her down to his good shoulder and held on tight. _You're still in my mind! As much as you were during the meld!_

T'Pol's own hand had mimicked Trip's by cupping his head. She gave a quick scratch to his nape. _Humans have a phrase for this moment, do they not? I believe it is "I told you so." _

Amused, Trip pushed her back in order to see her face. "Cute, T'Pol. Real cute." Then he just stared at her for a long moment, taking in her tired features. He could tell that dropping her shields had helped her, as did the mind meld. The skin at the corners of her eyes was no longer pinched. And being in her mind confirmed that for him. Her grief was still powerful, though. Combined with his, it was decidedly uncomfortable. He rubbed his thumb along her cheek. "You really need to meditate now. Think you can?"

"I believe so," was her soft response.

"Anything I can do to help?" he tenderly asked.

T'Pol looked away. _Will you meditate with me? Your presence…it helps. _

Trip's brows rose high on his forehead. _I always thought I bothered your meditations. You're always tellin' me to leave when I end up there._

T'Pol whipped her head back around. _I have not asked you to do so since I informed you about the bond, have I? _She lifted her own eyebrow in bemusement.

Trip tipped his head in thought. _No, you're right. Again. _He smirked at her. He dropped his hand to her thigh and squeezed gently. "You'll have to teach me, though," he remarked out loud.

_Thank you. _Her eyes were bright with affection.

_You're welcome. _His twinkled back.

Several minutes later, T'Pol was seated in her typical meditation pose, cross-legged in front of the little table holding her candle. Trip moved to sit across from her but immediately sensed her dissatisfaction through the bond. A wisp of thought not his own followed on its heels, and he knew what she really wanted. His lips twisted in amusement as he circled around behind her instead; slipping his sling off before he sat.

T'Pol's posture remained ramrod straight as Trip moved flush up against her back with his legs spread out around her. His right arm soon followed, his left resting at her waist. She was nearly completely surrounded by him, not unlike what their positions had been in the mind meld.

_Empty your mind, ashayam. Relax and find a single point of focus. Utilize the candle, if necessary, to hone that focus. Try to join me in the white space without me pulling you there._

It took many minutes, and many false starts, but Trip eventually joined her. The two then proceeded to sit in a verbally and mentally silent reverie. As Trip was focused solely on his own thoughts, he lost track of T'Pol's. An unknown amount of time had passed when he felt a soft breeze-like sensation blow through his mind, arresting his deep meditation. He knew its source was T'Pol so he opened his eyes to his bondmate, who was looking over her shoulder at him.

_Finished already, darlin'?_

"It has been three hours, Trip." Her eyes shown brightly in the dim candlelight.

To Trip's discerning eyes, she appeared more relaxed than he'd seen her in ages. She still grieved deeply. He could feel that easily enough, but it was not the crushing misery it was earlier. _Didn't seem like more'n a coupla minutes. Hope I was doing it right 'cause it actually felt kinda good._

T'Pol rested her hand along the top of his, lacing their fingers together. _That is the purpose of meditation. You were doing very well, ashayam. Thank you for supporting me. _She took hold of his hand and brought it across her body essentially wrapping herself in his embrace.

Trip's heart melted at her actions and her thoughts. "Always," he whispered, pulling her in tighter to his chest. Minutes passed while they sat in silence, enjoying the thoughts and feelings of each other flowing back and forth through the bond.

T'Pol slowly turned sideways. "Trip, I---," she paused, stalling in order to sort out what she wanted to tell him. She absently brought her hand to his chest.

Trip waited patiently, having learned in the last year and a half that T'Pol would share her thoughts in her own time. All he was getting through the bond was a crazy kaleidoscope of her thoughts and feelings. He wasn't able to separate them into coherency. He was sure, though, that they were mostly about Elizabeth.

T'Pol peeked up at him through her lashes. _I wish to explain to you why I grieve so for Elizabeth._

Trip frowned. _You were her mama, T'Pol. That's reason enough. _

_Yes. _She lifted her head. _It is more than that, however. The human grieving process is predominantly emotional, is it not? _

Trip nodded and remained silent, a sense of foreboding creeping up on him.

T'Pol stared deeply into her bondmate's bright blue eyes. _With certain losses, the Vulcan grieving process is both emotional __**and **__mental. This is one such loss. _

His eyes watered in reaction, making them appear even bluer. _Why? _

T'Pol leaned in to rest her cheek against Trip's shoulder, forehead brushing his neck. _Vulcan parents are mentally bonded to their children, Trip. It is a bond similar to what we had before the __**telen**__, primarily feelings or impressions._

"Oh, god," he gasped. Ignoring the pain in his wounded shoulder, Trip immediately scooped T'Pol up in his arms; hugging her tightly, his legs crossing under her. She ended up sitting in his lap with her face pressed into his shoulder.

T'Pol shuddered slightly then purposefully sorted out the feelings that revolved around the sundering of her bond with Elizabeth.

For the first time, Trip fully understood what utter devastation a broken bond could wreck. It left a hole in her soul that would never completely heal, and he ached with her. Tears slipped down his face, falling into the soft hair where his face was buried.

They remained in that position for the next hour while Trip shared T'Pol's mental burden. In that hour, he came to know when she first felt the bond and the acute pain that accompanied its loss when Elizabeth died.

T'Pol sighed. _So much of Vulcan physiology is tied to the mind, Adun. Be prepared that I will not recover quickly from this. _

He ran his hand up and down her back soothingly. _And meditatin' with me helps? _

_It may be the only thing that will. _

_Then that's what we'll do. For as long as ya need. __I love you, T'Pol. _

_And I you. _Trip tingled at the blast of warm affection she shot into his mind.

It was some time later when T'Pol picked her head up off Trip's shoulder. She leaned back and searched his face. _You are exhausted._

_So are you. _He gazed back steadily.

T'Pol tipped her head in agreement. _You need to eat._

_So do you. _He smirked.

She shot him a glance filled with exasperation. _I am not hungry._

"Well, neither am I, darlin'. But I'd be a terrible husband if I let ya get away with that answer." Having said that, he lifted her up in order to move his legs out, and then set her back down in front of her meditation table. "I'm gonna go get us somethin' to eat and bring it back here."

He felt her dissatisfaction. _See if you can keep meditatin'. I'll only be gone a couple of minutes. Promise._

_Very well. Kneel down here before you go. _T'Pol gathered Trip's forgotten sling and helped him put it back on, taking note every time he flinched. _You will stop by Sickbay and see Dr. Phlox, as well. I do not like seeing you in pain._

Trip smiled lovingly at her. _Okay. _He leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to her lips before standing and heading out the door.

After the door swished closed, T'Pol crossed her legs and turned back to her candle.

After a quick stop by Sickbay, Trip was armed with a hypospray for him to take after he returned to T'Pol's. Next, he swung by the mess hall. Though it was near the end of the dinner hour, it was still early enough in the evening that a small selection of food remained. He glanced through his choices, unsure what to take to his wife. He wondered if he should go ask Chef for some plomeek soup.

_A salad will suffice, ashayam. _

Trip lifted his head. _Hey, you're supposed to be meditatin'! _

_I am having difficulty. _

Her desire for his return washed over him. _Be back soon, darlin'. _He quickly grabbed utensils, a salad and his own dinner before hurrying off to his own quarters. Once there, he threw some clothes and his toothbrush in a duffle bag. At the last moment, he decided to put the dinner containers in his duffle, as well, since he was temporarily flying on one wing.

T'Pol opened her eyes at the sound of the door opening. Her eyes followed Trip as he set his duffle down on the bed. Her brow lifted in amusement when he withdrew three meal containers from within it and set them on the desk before dropping the duffle in the corner.

He caught her amusement and just shrugged sheepishly. _Damn sling. _He handed her the salad and a fork and dropped to the floor beside her with his own meal. They ate quickly, and barely a half an hour later, they were back in meditation.

Another hour had passed when T'Pol smoothly inserted herself into his thoughts without breaking his meditation. He wasn't sure how she did it, but he supposed it didn't really matter. He felt her there and that was that. _Having trouble?_

_No. I would just like to try something. _

Trip was intrigued. _Okay._

_I would like to attempt to show you what the bond with Elizabeth felt like. Sharing it with her father may assist the grieving process. _

_I think I'd like that. What do I need to do?_

_Just open your mind, ashayam. _

Trip again felt the soft breeze-like sensation in his mind that he associated with his bondmate's presence. Then he felt the breeze pick up in intensity, rushing through his mind with a passionate ferocity that buffeted his psyche, tossing it to and fro. Trip concentrated on keeping his mind open to this storm when every instinct he had was screaming at him to close it. Pain, hunger, loneliness, need. These sensations tackled his mind, leaving him struggling to find his figurative feet.

Just as he was about to call out to his wife, the storm stopped. His mind was clear once again. _T'Pol?_

_I am here, Adun. _

And he felt her, those breeze-like sensations again tickling through his thoughts, but they were not the same. _You feel different. You always feel like a cool breeze in my head. This time it feels different. Warm. Like early morning sunshine._

_This time, I did not come alone._

_This is Elizabeth? _Trip was awed by the feeling.

_In a manner of speaking. This is my specific memory of what I felt when I briefly touched her katra, put in a way you could conceptualize. I did not know how else to manifest this feeling._

_This works, darlin'. This works just fine. _He was incredibly moved by the opportunity she was giving him. _What was all that just before? _

_Those were the impressions and feelings I received from her through the parental bond. We were not together long enough for me to receive anything deeper._

_T'Pol? Do you ever wish she'd never been born? _

T'Pol paused to consider how to answer. Wishing was illogical and, therefore, not something she practiced regularly. _I do not regret her birth, merely the circumstances surrounding it. I wish she'd had a chance to be conceived out of her parent's affection for one another, born to parents who cherished her and her future. I feel as though something precious was stolen from me, from us._

Trip directed a concentrated burst of love her way. _Well said, baby. Well said. _Trip had an overwhelming urge to embrace her.

Feeling his desire, and sharing it, T'Pol brought their joint meditation to an end. She opened her eyes to her candlelit quarters and leaned back into her bondmate. She turned her head and met his descending lips. The kiss was intense but not passionate. Love without heat. It was exactly what they needed at that moment.

T'Pol pulled back first. "Let's go to bed, Adun," she murmured softly. "Tomorrow will be difficult."

Trip smiled sweetly at her. "I love it when you call me your husband. Especially in Vulcan. I like the way it sounds."

T'Pol rose to her feet and turned to him. She lifted a brow. "That is fortunate, as I find it pleasing to speak." She went to a cupboard to remove her pajamas before disappearing into the bathroom.

Trip rose and crossed to his duffle. He took out a pair of shorts and the hypospray and set them on the bunk before attempting to remove his uniform. He had his shoes and the sling off and the zipper down when T'Pol came out of the bathroom. She carried her robes to the closet then turned.

She stood in front of him in her blue silk pajamas, noting the difficulty he was having getting his injured arm out of the sleeve of the jumpsuit. She lifted her hands to assist him, gently easing the material off his shoulder while he held still. She inspected his bandage for any disturbance before tugging the material completely away. "What did Dr. Phlox tell you?"

Trip watched as she finished undressing him, lifting his feet when prompted. "That it was healing 'bout like he expected it would," he finally answered. "Said I wasn't using the sling enough. Wanted to put some of them disgusting leeches on it." He smirked when she shot him a glance. "I told him you'd make sure I took care of it, that he didn't need to bust out the bloodsuckers."

_Indeed. _

He smiled when she picked up his shorts and assisted him in putting them on. He ran his good hand through her hair. _Thanks, darlin'. _

_You are welcome, ashayam. Now come to bed._

_Give me just a minute._ He blew out her candles, grabbed his toothbrush and went into the bathroom. When he came back out, T'Pol had the bed turned down and his hypospray in hand. He joined her on the bunk and lay down on the inside, waiting for T'Pol to settle in.

She did so by first administering the pain reliever to his neck. She followed by curling up to him and resting her head on his good shoulder, one warm hand resting on over his heart.

"T'Pol?"

"Adun."

"Thanks for lettin' me feel Elizabeth. I know that was hard for you, and I just wanted you to know how much I appreciated the chance."

T'Pol lifted her head in order to see his face. "The chance for what, ashayam?"

He rubbed his hand up and down her back, smoothing the silky fabric of her pajamas. He sighed and murmured, "You introduced me to a part of her I'd never have known about. A kind of 'hello.' So I guess I'm saying thanks for giving me the chance to say goodbye to her again…as well as…hello."

T'Pol's breath caught. Then she literally showered him with a flood of affection that brought tears to his eyes.

And so he cried himself to sleep, only this time…he did not do it alone, and they were not tears of sadness.

END

08/13/08


	4. Before Everything Else

**Before Everything Else**

By Eian Flannagan

Disclaimer: Paramount owns the sandbox. I'm just taking a shovel to it.

Spoilers: _Impulse, Bound, Terra Prime_

Archive: None without author's permission

NOTE: Going forward, italics will represent mental conversation unless otherwise part of an obvious verbal dialogue.

----------------------

He watched; quietly, unobtrusively. He did not hide, nor did he invite attention. He simply watched.

As the brief memorial service concluded, he noticed the delegates flood around the grieving _Enterprise _crewman, one in dress blues, and one in formal robes of mourning. For close to half an hour, what he observed both fascinated and impressed him. He saw an obviously grieving Commander Tucker ward off _**every single**_ well-wisher in such a manner that while he did not dismiss their sentiments, he categorically refused them any and all contact with Commander T'Pol. And he did this so successfully it was doubtful the well-wishers, delegates and Starfleet alike, were even aware of it.

And so at that moment, Ambassador Soval went from watching them…to watching _**over **_them. He searched out the closest exit to the grieving duo then began his approach. His demeanor and, yes, his reputation cleared the way for him to quickly get close to the pair. He quietly excused his way around the crowd to come in behind the Commanders, making sure to approach on Commander Tucker's side, so as not to disturb his former protégé.

"Commander Tucker."

Trip glanced to his right, eyes red-rimmed and glazed. He quickly made sure T'Pol was secure behind him, out of reach of the well-meaning delegates, before automatically raising his right hand, fingers split in the vee that signaled the Vulcan greeting. "Peace and long life, Ambassador. Thanks for coming."

Soval returned his greeting solemnly, offering a half-bow of respect to the human who garnered that respect more and more at every meeting. He then pivoted slightly to offer the same half-bow to T'Pol. "Vulcan grieves with thee, T'Pol-kan. _**I **_grieve with thee," he stressed. "With both of you."

T'Pol, whose gaze had been focused downward since leaving _Enterprise_ well over an hour ago and who had relied solely on her bondmate's guidance, finally raised her eyes. "You honor us, Tela'at1," she murmured quietly.

In just that brief statement, Soval could tell the young Vulcan's control was in jeopardy. Swiftly putting his plan in motion, he stepped between the crowd and Commander Tucker and motioned them toward the exit. "Please make your escape, Commanders. I will convey your appreciation to those remaining and check in with you later. If this is agreeable?"

Trip's eyes closed in gratitude. He mentally checked with T'Pol before murmuring quietly, "Thank you, sir. It's very agreeable."

Trip wasted no time maneuvering his wife over to the exit, relying on Soval to keep anyone from following. He pulled his communicator out of his pocket as they made their way to the rear of the building. "Tucker to Reed."

"Reed here, Commander."

"Operation Hermitage, Lieutenant. Beta site." Trip silently thanked every deity in the universe for friends like Malcolm Reed. Thorough and prepared, Malcolm had quickly come up with an exit plan early this morning after Trip had confessed to him his reservations about him and T'Pol being around that many people.

"Understood, sir. Reed out." Malcolm had been waiting for this signal. He'd been keeping his eye on the pair for nearly the entire time since they'd left _Enterprise, _so their sneaking away had come as no surprise. He'd even sent Ensign Mayweather ahead to the shuttlepod in anticipation as soon as the service had concluded.

And less than two minutes later, Shuttlepod Two was landing behind Starfleet Academy's non-denominational chapel. Trip rested his hand lightly upon the small of T'Pol's back, gently guiding her toward the craft. Once inside, Trip shot a glance of gratitude to the pilot. "Make haste, Travis. Best speed back to _Enterprise._"

"Yes, sir." Travis quickly lifted off, quietly communicating with Starfleet ground control and ignoring those in the back. Out of respect, Travis refused to disturb them. The way he figured it, their day was tough enough already. And though he was sure Commander Tucker would speak with him if prompted, it wasn't the right thing to do. And no way was he going to attempt to make small talk with his Vulcan XO.

--- --- --- --- ---

Trip's meditation ended abruptly at the sound of the door chime. He jerked and quickly backed away from T'Pol, circling around to sit in front of her. Having grown used to her meditations being interrupted frequently over the years, T'Pol had not startled out of her meditation. She carefully eased herself out, unwilling to destroy the hours of effort she'd put in to regaining her control. She could not, however, hide her dissatisfaction from her bondmate.

Trip smiled ruefully. _I'll come back to you as soon as you get rid of your visitor. Unless you're ready to announce our relationship to everyone, its best if I'm not seen snuggled up to your back._

_It is certainly something we need to discuss. Our relationship should be private, not necessarily secret. _Aloud she muttered, "Come in."

Jonathan Archer's eyes widened at the sight before him. His First Officer and Chief Engineer were sitting across from each other, on either side of T'Pol's meditation candle. Her quarters were dimly lit; the glow of half a dozen candles the only illumination.

"I don't mean to disturb you," he started.

Trip looked over his shoulder. "S'Okay, Cap'n. We were just meditatin'." Trip wanted to laugh at the expression that crossed his old friend's face.

Archer stepped just inside so the door could close behind him, then knelt down so he was at their level, an amused smirk gracing his features. "Not something I guess I ever thought I'd see you do, Trip."

The engineer just shrugged and turned around to face him. "It's helpin' T'Pol. Kinda the meditation version of the buddy-buddy system." He sighed and looked back at his wife; sent her a burst of affection across their bond. "An' I'm not gonna lie and say it isn't helpin' me, too."

Archer nodded and looked down, nervously rubbed his hands over his knees. "You guys need anything?" He looked up at them, his face solemn. "Anything at all? All you've got to do is ask."

T'Pol locked eyes with Trip. _He needs to know. Not now, but soon. _

Trip silently agreed. _Guess we better have that talk sooner rather than later. _

T'Pol looked over to Archer. "Time, Captain. We just require time."

"You've got all the time you need." Jon smirked. "Hell, every senior officer on this ship has more leave than we know what to do with." He looked back and forth between the two. "You need to go anywhere, anywhere at all; I'll arrange it for you. Florida, Vulcan, you name it."

"Thanks, Jon. We'll let you know."

"Thank you, Captain."

Archer sighed and stood up. "Ok, I'll leave you two alone." He stopped as he was half-way out the door. "Oh, Hoshi received a request from Ambassador Soval a little while ago. Is it okay by you if he comes aboard to see you?"

T'Pol tipped her head. "He is welcome. He came to our aide earlier this morning and is, no doubt, 'checking up' on us."

The captain smiled. "Alright. I'll have him brought this way when he arrives. You two don't forget to holler at me if you need anything."

Trip nodded at him as the door slid shut. _Guess maybe we have less than an hour before the Ambassador shows up, what do you think?_

_Agreed._

_Well, I'm gonna fetch us supper then. You missed lunch. _Trip silently stood his ground. _I'm not having you get sick just' cause you don't feel like eatin'! _

T'Pol's brow rose in consternation. _You have missed just as many meals as I have, Adun._

Trip frowned. _At least I had breakfast this morning. _

_You know Vulcans can go without food much longer than humans. _

Trip sighed, stood up, and paced a few feet across the room. T'Pol sensed a sad agitation in him that had nothing to do with his grief over Elizabeth. She grew further confused when he vigorously scrubbed his hand through his hair and leaned against the viewport in dejection. She stood and walked over to him, rested her hand on his back. "What troubles you?" she asked softly.

Trip turned around, grabbed T'Pol's hand before she could remove it. He held it to his chest and smiled weakly at her. "I just feel like I'm failing you, that I'm not takin' care of you like I should be." He shrugged. "I mean, I know you can take care of yourself an' all, but I just have this need I can't explain. Like I have to do everything I can to help you be _content,_ and I'm not." His eyes watered, and he took a shuddered breath. "So please forgive me if I keep tryin' to feed you 'cause I don't know what else to do," he finished plaintively, squeezing her hand tightly.

T'Pol's own eyes watered in response. "You most certainly _**are **_helping me. I would not even be _functional _without you," she insisted forcefully. "You are not failing me in _any _way, my Adun." T'Pol's entire body began to tremble in reaction to his feelings. She took a deep breath and palmed his face with her free hand. "I know you are aware of my inability to meditate without you. You are giving no weight to your mere presence. And you have no understanding for all that you did for me at this morning's service." She pressed her paired fingers to his lips, the resulting cascade of feeling a balm to his soul.

Trip gathered her up in a one-armed embrace. "I don't know why you put up with me," he choked out against her shoulder.

T'Pol pulled back and cupped his face in her hands, wiping his tears away with her thumbs. "You are my adun. My ashayam. The other half to my katra." She leaned in to briefly press her lips against his. "That is why I put up with you," she murmured before leaning in for a more intensive kiss. And thus, she spent the next twenty minutes reassuring him in a most pleasant fashion, until they were interrupted by the door chime.

Trip leaned his forehead against his wife's. _I guess supper can wait, after all. _

_Indeed. I found how we spent the last half hour to be much more satisfying than forcing myself to ingest a meal I did not want to begin with._

Trip smirked. "Can't argue there. You win another one."

He shifted her aside and went to get the door. It was no surprise to see Ambassador Soval standing there. Trip stood to the side and motioned with his good arm, "Come in, Ambassador. Thanks, Ensign" he dismissed the dignitary's escort with a nod and allowed the door to close.

Soval faced Trip and raised his hand in greeting. "Peace and long life to you both."

Trip frowned slightly, unsure why the Ambassador seemed to only address him, even though his words seemed meant for both of them.

_Soval is aware we are bonded, Adun. He is following Vulcan custom by addressing the male of the household. _

Trip's gaze shot over to T'Pol. _How does he know?_ "Live long and prosper, sir. We're honored to have you."

T'Pol raised a brow in amusement. _He is Vulcan. Newly bonded couples are easily sensed by those with as strong a psi-rating as the Ambassador's. You also behaved as my bonded mate in public at this morning's service. Any Vulcan present would have noticed. _

Soval glanced down at the meditation pillows and table. "I hope I am not disturbing you, Commanders."

_I was trying to protect you! _

_Exactly my point. And it was __**much **__appreciated. _T'Pol moved back toward the meditation candle and sat down before it. "Not at all, Ambassador," she murmured softly. "Amsetri tre.2 Please join us." She motioned to the place directly across from her own.

_Where am I supposed to sit now? _

_Where you usually sit during our meditations._

_Are you crazy? With the Ambassador sitting right there?_

T'Pol shot a burst of amusement into her bondmate's mind. _He will not be surprised, ashayam. You are my bondmate…and we are grieving. I require you near, and he will understand this. _She waited a beat. _Come sit. _She then held out two paired fingers for him to take.

Trip reached out uneasily to gently grasp her fingers with his own pair, enjoyed the wash of feelings the touch produced, and moved to sit behind her. He settled in nervously, unsure if he should snuggle up to her as he usually did or not. He opted not to for the moment and sighed. "I'm trying very hard to learn the customs of your people, Ambassador, but I'm gonna admit I'm a mite confused."

Soval merely raised a brow at the young human.

Trip absently plucked at his pants, unsure where to place his hands. "You didn't come all the way up here just to meditate with us, didja?"

T'Pol turned her head to the side. "As a matter of fact, he did."

Trip frowned and glanced over to Soval.

Soval brought his hands together in front of him, forming a triangle. He took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "It is tradition, Commander Tucker."

_Well that clears it up! _Trip sighed, still lost.

"Trip." T'Pol waited for him to meet her gaze. "You know Vulcans grieve by meditating. Tradition dictates that, when possible, family members meditate with those who grieve most. It is but one reason you have been so necessary for my well-being."

It startled Trip that she would allude to something so personal in front of the Ambassador. Then he realized what she was truly saying. His gaze shot back and forth between T'Pol and Soval. "Does that mean…? How are you...? You two are…?"

T'Pol quickly suppressed her amusement lest _either _of the men detect it. "Soval is my en'ahr'at. What you would call a 'godfather.' My well-being has always been his concern."

Soval tipped his head. "How long have you two been bonded, T'Pol-kan?"

"I have known about the bond for less than one Earth month, but I believe it formed while we were in the Expanse. I informed Trip of its presence approximately twelve days ago." She shot a quick glance over her shoulder at her husband before continuing dryly, "It explained _many _things."

Intrigued, Soval queried further. "It formed on its own? It was not of your choosing?"

T'Pol lifted her own brow. "It formed on its own, however logic dictates it would not have formed had either of us not desired it." She looked down at her hands. "It was only yesterday that we discussed, at length, what it means for us. My mate is human, Tela'at. He is remarkably intelligent, but it will still take longer than a day to impart to him all he needs to know. As he indicated moments ago, he is trying."

Soval tipped his head in agreement. "Point." He again addressed Trip, who was starting to get restless as they talked about him. "My apologies, Commander. The reason I inquired as to the length of your bond is because you were unaware of my relationship to T'Pol, no other reason. I grieve with thee not only for the loss of your daughter, but also for the time you've lost as the 'newly bonded.' This should be a time of discovery and of contentment, not sorrow and grief."

Trip sighed, his fatigue finally catching up to him. "I understand, Ambassador. I really do." He gazed at T'Pol's profile in abject adoration. "And I'm about to say something completely human, and I hope you won't be offended." Before either Vulcan had time to lift a brow, he continued, "I am in love with T'Pol…and I'm guessin' there's a real goofy look on my face right now that proves it. I can't think of one thing I want right now more than her _contentment._" He rubbed his face wearily. "The last thing I want to do is embarrass her or commit some major cultural taboo. I just don't want anything I do to reflect badly on her, but I'm human. I'm just a mere human, Ambassador. I'm learnin' as fast as I can."

Soval's brows rose higher on his forehead the longer Trip spoke. Once the engineer finished speaking, Soval leaned forward. "It was never my intention to indicate otherwise, Commander. Please do not misunderstand. I am in full support of this bond."

T'Pol's eyes widened, and Trip's jaw dropped. Shock reverberated throughout their bond.

Soval continued, "Spontaneously-formed Vulcan mating bonds are extraordinarily rare. Yours is the first of which I've actually been aware. It would be supremely illogical _**not **_to support such a union. Additionally, Commander, I hold great respect for you which seems to grow each time we meet. Today was no exception."

Trip exhaled heavily. "I'm a…not sure what to say, sir." He caught T'Pol's gaze out of the corner of his eye, her pleasure practically _rolling _across the bond in waves.

"Nothing need be said," Soval stated. "Your protection of her today, your efforts to prevent hostilities between Vulcan and Andoria during the recent Reformation, and your willingness to adopt many Vulcan customs demonstrates your suitability as a bondmate to T'Pol." He paused for several minutes before continuing softly. "It was solely through your subconscious actions today, however, that gave your bond unbreakable legitimacy, Commander, as well as my unsolicited approval." He resolutely met Trip's gaze. "You demonstrated your innate understanding of the first tenet to achieving balance within the Vulcan mating bond. _**Before everything else, there is the bond.**_"

Trip nodded seriously before admitting, "I've actually been thinking of it as '_before everything else, there is __**T'Pol**__._' How's that work for ya?"

Soval suppressed a smile and looked to T'Pol.

She just shrugged. "Ish-veh komihn3, Tela'at. Ish-veh komihn."

Soval shifted his gaze back to Trip. "Yes. A somewhat _remarkable _human, though."

T'Pol peeked over at Trip through her lashes and held out her paired index and middle fingers. "Indeed." She suppressed a sigh when her bondmate met them with his own.

_Before everything else, darlin'._

_Before everything else, Adun._

_Is there gonna be a quiz, ya think? 'Cause I'm pretty sure I've got this one. What did he call it? Oh, yeah. A __**tenet**__. How many are there?_

_Several._

_Hope there's a quiz. Love you._

_And I you._

--- --- ---

1Tela'at = Elder

2Amsetri tre = Your presence honors us.

3Ish-veh komihn = He is human.

END

09/02/08


	5. The 2nd Tenet

**The 2****nd**** Tenet**

By Eian Flannagan

Disclaimer: Paramount owns the sandbox. I'm just taking a shovel to it.

Spoilers: Just about anything in Seasons 3 & 4.

Archive: None without author's permission

NOTE: Going forward, italics will represent mental conversation unless otherwise part of an obvious verbal dialogue.

--- --- --- --- ---

"Hey, T'Pol?" Trip stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom eyeing the healing wound in his shoulder.

_Yes? _Unlike her bondmate, T'Pol saw no reason to shout across her quarters. She finished placing the meditation pillows on the bench before crossing to the doorway. T'Pol observed, with an odd fascination, as her human poked at his raw flesh. "What are you attempting to accomplish?"

"Huh?" Trip shot her a glance before returning to his inspection. "Uh, nothing really. Just checking it out. You think I can go without the sling now? Only hurts a little bit." He continued to prod the remaining inflamed area surrounding the initial wound site.

When she failed to respond, he looked up again. "What?" he asked in response to the bemusement he felt through their mental connection. "Haven't you ever picked at a scab before?"

"Never," she replied flatly. "Desist immediately. It is unsanitary."

"What are you talkin' about? My hands are clean," he exclaimed.

T'Pol, not swayed at all, merely lifted a brow. _Desist or I will have Dr. Phlox "bust out the bloodsuckers."_

Trip burst out laughing. "Did you really just say 'bloodsuckers'? For that matter, did you really just say _**'bust'**_?"

"I said nothing."

"Ok." _Did you really just __**think **__'bloodsuckers?' _Trip continued to chuckle for another minute before managing to control himself.

T'Pol simply ignored him and looked at his shoulder. "It appears to be nearly healed." She leaned in for a closer inspection. "The logical thing to do, however, is to consult your physician," she chided gently.

Trip made a face and reached for his T-shirt. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. I hear you." He tugged his shirt over his head then reached for T'Pol, pulling her to stand with him in front of the mirror.

T'Pol placidly gazed at their reflection, relaxing into him when Trip drew her back into his bigger body, his arms circling her small waist. She studied each of them individually for several minutes before focusing on the sight of them as a single unit. A sense of satisfaction permeated her being, easily sensed by her husband. "Ma etek natyan teretuhr lau etek shetau weh-lo'uk do tum t'on1."

Trip mentally translated the softly spoken Vulcan dialect. "Is that from the Kir'shara?" he asked, somewhat impressed by the message. "Part of that IDIC stuff?"

T'Pol turned in his embrace and reached to wrap her arms around his neck. _It is of the same theme. _

He leaned down and rested his forehead against hers. _Same song, different verse, huh? _To his delight, her amusement trickled through the bond to lap lovingly at his consciousness. He closed the negligible distance between them, his lips softly dancing against hers. _Pretty neat idea, darlin'. If we ever need a motto, that one would be damn near perfect. _

T'Pol strongly agreed, demonstrating this by deepening their kiss and pulling him in tighter to her body. Trip's tongue brushed her lips, and she opened them in welcome as shockwaves of pleasure skittered through her veins. Once thought unsanitary and distasteful, she had become enamored with this decidedly _human_ form of expression during their one night of "sexual exploration." She was no longer hesitant in either initiating or participating in it with her bondmate. The feelings it evoked, though not as strong as the ozh'esta2, were wickedly sexual and completely different.

A long sybaritic moment passed before Trip required oxygen and was forced to release her full lips. He, again, rested his forehead against hers and quietly gasped for air. _Damn but you're good at that! _

_Though I have no other frame of reference, you also seem to be above average in ability, ashayam. _

Trip chuckled softly and folded her in closer to his body, his face buried in her shoulder.

T'Pol squeezed him back and marveled at this other uniquely human method of expressing affection, realizing she could quickly get used to it, as well. Especially as it strengthened their already ridiculously strong bond, allowing thoughts and feelings to flow more readily, and she soaked it up like a sponge. Her thoughts turned to their shared evening with her en'ahr'at, Soval. The time spent in meditation with him and Trip had assisted her in untold ways, allowing her to know a peace that hadn't existed within her mind for some time. Her ruminations also served as a reminder all the things she needed to share with her adun. It was her duty and desire to see that he never entered a cultural battle with her people unarmed. With that in mind, she lifted her head.

"Trip, may we speak?"

Trip was getting used to that being a T'Polism for 'we need to talk about our relationship.' It was the only time she ever asked him that question. And given what she was just thinking about, he had a rough idea what direction she was headed. "Cultural boot camp? Sure," he murmured, pressing his lips to hers one more time before separating. "Get in your pajamas so we can get comfortable."

T'Pol did as requested and soon found herself ensconced on her bunk amongst several pillows; propped against the bulkhead next to her mate. She sat cross-legged next to him, her hands fidgeting nervously in her lap. Trip sat beside her in an identical posture, though calmly and expectantly, waiting for her to begin.

T'Pol decided to start simply and work forward in whatever direction the conversation took them. "Thank you."

_For what?_

"For showing respect to Soval this evening. Other than my parents, no one else knows or has known how important he is to me. You behaved as though you _**are**_ aware and treated him accordingly. And I sense that you did not discern this because of our bond, but more because of your own innate understanding of me, and I am humbled." T'Pol sent forth such a huge burst of affection into Trip's mind he was momentarily stunned by the sweetness of it.

Trip bowed his head and breathed deeply. He had to clear his throat before stating quietly and resolutely, "He's the only family you have left, darlin'. I mean, 'sides me and my folks and _Enterprise_. Isn't that what bein' your en'ahr'at makes him? Family?"

"Yes," she whispered in response.

"Well," Trip sighed. "One thing I learned from your mama was how important families are in Vulcan society. I mean, it's why ya married Koss an' all…'cause family comes first. Right?" He turned his head to the right, seeking confirmation.

T'Pol met his gaze, her brown eyes becoming hazel in the dim candlelight. She rose up on her knees, pivoted and threw one leg over Trip's lap to straddle his hips. Her belly flush against his, she placed her hands high on his chest. Trip's eyes widened at her quick move, barely getting his hands clear before she sat down in his lap. The emotions flowing through their bond made him smile, but he just remained slumped against the bulkhead with her in his lap, waiting for her to continue.

_You are correct. Family __**does**__ come first. Except when it interferes with the bond._

_So…bond first, family second, but more often than not, bond and family are connected…so they both come first?_

"Precisely," T'Pol murmured. "Had we known of our bond nine months ago, I would _**not**_ have married Koss, _**could not**_ have, nor would my mother have expected me to."

Trip rubbed his hands up and down her back soothingly. "Well, we can't do anything about that now, but why do ya suppose we didn't know about it then? Why didn't I end up in your white room before I left for _Columbia_?"

"One reason is that I did not believe a mating bond could form between a Vulcan and a Human. And one of the major components to a mating bond is the need for our minds to be closer. Your ending up within my meditation place while away on _Columbia_ was the bond's efforts to bring us together. While you were on _Enterprise_ it was not necessary to go to those lengths." She hesitated, unsure about how to continue.

Trip felt nervousness, apprehension, and shame radiating from his bondmate and wondered why she was so upset. _T'Pol? Are there other reasons? _

So great was her shame, she could not speak of it aloud. _In the bond...there can be no secrets, Adun. None._

_Okay?_ Trip did not understand why this was such a big deal. _Darlin', I know you've got decades of memories of a life I know nothing about. You'll share 'em with me won't you?_ At her nod, he continued probing. _Then what's the big deal? What's got…__**us**__…all twisted up inside?_

T'Pol's shame was overwhelming. _It is difficult to speak of. Your opinion of me matters more to me than anyone else's._

_And you think that's gonna change? _Trip was mystified. _I love you completely, T'Pol. Even if I'm upset about what you're gonna tell me, my love's not gonna go away._

T'Pol stared down, refusing to meet his gaze. It wasn't just his love she feared losing. She never wanted to lose his respect. She slowly ran her hands over his chest in nervous agitation; up and down, back and forth. _You haven't had time to develop the skill to read my deepest thoughts. You will, eventually, but what I need to tell you cannot wait for you to discover on your own._ She hesitated then reached up to cup his face in one hand. _And you shouldn't have to, ashayam. _

Trip met her gaze evenly, without judgment. "So just tell me," he stated softly. And as he'd learned to do over the years, he waited patiently for her to continue.

T'Pol dropped her hand and allowed her head to also drop so her forehead rested against his shoulder. She could not look at him. _You are aware my control is not what it was before we entered the Expanse._

Trip's hands went from her waist to her back, wrapping her in a comforting embrace. _I know._ He'd often speculated to himself about it.

_My encounter with the __**Seleya **__affected me badly._

Trip pulled her even tighter to his body, one hand lifting to the back of her head. _I remember._

_The Trellium, however, allowed me to access certain emotions._ She paused to breathe deeply as she echoed a similar confession she'd had with Dr. Phlox over a year ago. _I wanted more._

Trip's hands stilled, and he held his breath. _What do you mean?_

T'Pol squirmed slightly on his lap. _I devised a way to synthesize it so I could inject minute amounts directly into my bloodstream. _

Trip's breath whooshed out, and a wave of nausea swept over him. He couldn't tell, however, if the feeling was his…or T'Pol's. His mind raced with questions, admonishments, and emotions: fear, anger, despair, worry, need, and love. As he'd reassured her mere minutes ago, the love didn't go away.

In her agitated state, T'Pol could not keep up with his thoughts. _Trip? Please say something. _

"Gimme a minute," he murmured, eyes shut tightly. To his credit, he did not lesson his hold on his wife one iota. In fact, he strengthened it, knowing her sturdier Vulcan frame could take it. He remained thus for several more minutes before forcefully and abruptly lifting her off him in a flurry of movement, shoving her to the side as he bolted for the bathroom. To her shock, she heard him quickly throw up the meager contents of his stomach.

T'Pol rushed in after him only to see her mate racked by violent dry heaves. She grabbed a washcloth and quickly soaked it with cold water then sank to her knees behind him. She placed a hand on his back and waited for him to calm, sending soothing thoughts across the bond all the while. When he was finished, she gently wiped his face with the cloth then assisted him to the sink so he could rinse out his mouth.

A few minutes later they were back in the bunk in almost exactly the same position they were in before Trip got sick; only now, T'Pol's concern for him altered her focus. They sat chest to chest with her legs wrapped around his waist, but her hands bracketed his jaw as she gazed upon his ashen features. _Ashayam? _

Trip smiled weakly at her. _I think that was for both of us. _

T'Pol lifted her brow in confusion and waited for him to clarify.

_All __**your**__ negative emotions were churnin' up __**my**__ guts somethin' fierce, baby. Not to mention…the thought of you poisonin' yourself just twists me all to hell._

T'Pol looked away, chagrined and mortified at both her past actions and the, as yet, unknown impact on her bondmate.

_Hey._ Trip reached up and turned her face back to his. _Don't go thinkin' the worst before I have a chance to get all the facts._

T'Pol merely nodded in acceptance. What else could she possibly do? The only way for them to move beyond this part of her history was to go _through_ it.

"How long did you do this to yourself?" His tone was nearly Vulcan in its inflection, calm, emotionless, non-judgmental.

_Approximately five Terran months. After the first couple injections…I became addicted._

_When __**exactly**__ did you stop?_ Trip felt a wave of remorse from T'Pol.

_I approached Dr. Phlox for help following the events at Azati Prime._

Trip sighed, now understanding the remorse. "So you were on Trellium while in command during the battle."

"Yes," she whispered, head bowed.

Trip tugged her forward until her head fell to his shoulder, his arms wrapping around her completely. With her secure in his embrace, he continued with his questions. _I know what addiction does to a person, T'Pol. Have you used any Trellium since tellin' Phlox?_

_No!_ She paused, tightened her grip on her bondmate. _I went through a period of withdrawal, but Dr. Phlox assisted me. _

_He's the only one who knows?_

T'Pol nodded her head against his shoulder.

_Can ya tell me why ya did it?_

T'Pol sighed into his neck. _In the days following my exposure on the __**Seleya**__, I was able to access many emotions. I found a few to be highly pleasurable. I wanted more of those._ T'Pol hesitated, but eventually continued. _I wanted more of the emotions I felt…when I interacted with you._ She brought forth in her mind all of those feelings and showed him exactly why she began abusing the Trellium.

Trip quickly looked down at her. The gift of their bond allowed him to almost put himself in her place, and he actually understood why she did it. He certainly didn't condone her actions, but he definitely understood them. He sighed. _Are we together now only because of the Trellium addiction? _

_I am unable to state with certainty, but I do not believe so. Vulcan mating bonds form over long periods of time. It is why married couples must live together the first year, so the bond can be established. I am more inclined to believe our bond began to form as soon as we began your neuro-pressure treatments._

That startled Trip. "How do you figure?"

_You recall our conversation early this morning regarding Vulcans being touch-telepaths?_

_Sure. It's one of the reasons I asked Malcolm to come up with that exit plan_.

_Vulcans, especially Vulcan females, do not have casual friendships, Trip. Despite that, I had developed great respect for you and had begun to think of you…as a friend…prior to our entering the Expanse. The intimacy inherent in Vulcan neuro-pressure would have facilitated the development of a bond between us, as we were already considered "close," by Vulcan standards. It is my belief we would still have bonded without the Trellium, but we may not have had sexual intimacy._

Trip sighed. "So we're together because of my insomnia?"

T'Pol shook her head against his shoulder and muttered, "We are together because I cared enough about your well-being to agree to Dr. Phlox's request to engage in neuro-pressure."

Trip relaxed slightly at her admission. He rubbed his hands up and down her back while he thought about everything she'd just told him. He weighed it against everything he knew about Vulcans, in general and her, in particular. When he finally felt satisfied with the status of their bond and its beginnings, he re-focused on the Trellium abuse.

_What damage did you do?_ Trip sensed her confusion at his question. _What damage did the Trellium abuse end up doin' to ya?_

_Many of the neural pathways to my emotional centers have degraded. That may be another reason I did not realize we were bonded. Dr. Phlox says they may never heal._ If possible, T'Pol sank even further into Trip. At this point, there was no separation between the two. _I have it on good authority that they will not, and I will have to learn to live with these emotions for the rest of my life._

Trip peered down at his wife and frowned. "What're you talkin' about? What authority?"

T'Pol sat back a fraction, only far enough to bring his forehead down to meet her own. _Look. _At that, T'Pol brought forth her memories of meeting Lorian's mother and the entire conversation that took place between them.

Trip gasped. _She…you…were alive!? Why didn't anyone __**tell **__me? Why didn't Lorian mention it? I would've wanted to see her!_

_She didn't want to see you._ His hurt stabbed into her psyche. _It would have been too difficult for her, Adun._ T'Pol cupped his face. _She lost you entirely too soon, and it nearly killed her._

That shut him up for a moment, but certainly not for long. _How?_ He searched her eyes. _How did it almost kill her?_

T'Pol's eyes widened. _You have felt what the severing of Elizabeth's bond has done to me. Imagine how much worse it will be should I lose my bond with __**you**__. _T'Pol shuddered and began to tremble, her breathing quickening. _I do not think __**I**__ would survive it._

Trip felt extreme nausea sweep over him again and was confident, this time, it was a manifestation of T'Pol's feelings, not his own. He pulled her tightly to him again, holding her as close as he possibly could. He held her for the next half hour, reassuring her of his presence and devotion.

After some time, he nuzzled her nape. "You got any more big bombs to drop on me, darlin'?"

"That was the biggest," she mumbled into his shoulder. "The rest are merely small-caliber munitions.

"Oh, good," Trip teased. "It's all downhill from here then."

Finally, her composure restored, T'Pol sat back and peered up at him. _You are disappointed in me._

Trip sighed and reached up to cup her jaw, his thumb sweeping under her ear. "I don't know what I am. I think," he paused and looked away to gather the necessary words. "I think if we didn't have this bond…I might be disappointed and angry and hurt. But because we _**do**_, I know exactly what you were going through and everything you felt at the time. So I am and I am not…all of those things." Trip gave T'Pol a small smile. _I think I'd like to talk to Phlox about it. Would that be ok?_

T'Pol nodded and looked down. _He needs to know about our bond, as well._

_So let's go see him first thing in the morning._

T'Pol agreed and closed her eyes, the confessing of her deepest, darkest secret having sapped the last of her energy.

Trip gripped his wife under her bottom and lifted her, turning to lay her down on the bunk. He left her only long enough to extinguish all the candles and was quickly back at T'Pol's side. He crawled over her so his back was against the bulkhead then pulled her against his much larger frame. With her back to his chest, he wrapped his left arm around her waist.

T'Pol latched onto his hand and brought it up to nestle between her breasts so she was completely enveloped by him.

Trip smiled and pressed a kiss to the back of her head. _Not the kind of boot camp I expected an hour ago, darlin'._

_Actually, it was. That was a prime example of the second tenet to achieving balance in the Vulcan mating bond._

_We just spent an hour covering a tenet?_

_Yes,_ T'Pol thought sleepily.

_Well next time, warn me when we're gonna hit on one._

T'Pol could feel the tension in her body lessen at his thoughts, sensing his playfulness. _Why would I want to do that?_

_I might need to take notes!_

T'Pol responded with amusement. _Then be advised of the second tenet, Adun…in the bond...there can be no secrets._

_Well, dammit, I didn't bring a PADD to bed!_

--- --- ---

1. Ma etek natyan teretuhr lau etek shetau weh-lo'uk do tum t'on = We have differences. May we, together, become greater than the sum of both of us.

2. ozh'esta = finger embrace

END

09/08/08 H


	6. HP&LA

**Hematology, Perspiration, and Lachrymal Angst:**

**A Syllabus to Not Belaboring the Minute Details**

By Eian Flannagan

Disclaimer: Paramount owns the sandbox. I'm just taking a shovel to it.

Spoilers: Just about anything in Seasons 3 & 4.

Archive: None without author's permission

NOTE: Italics will represent mental conversation unless otherwise part of a narration or an obvious verbal dialogue.

--- --- --- --- ---

It was the cold that woke him. Sleeping with T'Pol was a sweltering experience on multiple levels, not the least of which was her natural body temperature. He never used to be cold on _Enterprise_ due to its conditioned air and regulated temperature settings, but that changed when he began spending most of his time in her quarters, where the temperature was set closer to Vulcan standard. It did not require genius-level intelligence to deduce that his Vulcan bride was, therefore, missing from her bunk.

From the bathroom, T'Pol sensed his untrained mind weakly searching for hers and met him half way. _I am here, Adun._

_It's __**early**__, T'Pol._

_You pass Chronometer Reading for Beginners. Shall we proceed to the Intermediate level?_ She reentered the room as she broadcasted her frisky thoughts.

Trip grabbed her when she got close enough and wrestled her freshly-showered self back into the bunk. He straddled her waist and held her hands against the mattress above her head. He grinned down at her beautiful face, complete with its sharply arched eyebrow. "Vulcan humor? You're zingin' me with Vulcan humor _**before**_ coffee?"

"Vulcans do not possess a sense of humor."

"Ha!" Trip launched himself away and marched to the bathroom to immediately grab his toothbrush. _Tell that to someone who isn't joined at the mind to a Vulcan! _He finished quickly, dashed back, and dove into the bunk to resume his previous position, tickled that she hadn't moved away. He leaned down to rest his forehead against hers. "First ya freeze me awake, and then ya zing me." _Guess it's a good thing I'm crazy in love with you._ He pressed his lips to hers in what was meant to be an affectionate peck but quickly turned into a serious expression of deep passion.

_Yes. I am very fortunate._ She easily broke his grip so she could grasp the back of his head and pull him in closer. She opened her mouth to his seeking tongue, marveling at her body's physical reactions to his kiss. The spiraling passion. The tingling nerves, the racing heartbeat. The quivering, the trembling. The breathlessness.

The disorientation…

_Ashayam!_

Trip ripped his lips from hers and dropped his face to her shoulder, gasping for breath. _Sorry._

_Do not be._ She quivered under him, panting lightly, attempting to calm the storm of her awakened passion and agitated mind.

_That was one of the reasons you pulled away from me that morning, wasn't it? After our night together?_

T'Pol nodded against the flesh of his nape. _I was very confused. I could not handle the disorientation. _She took deep, steadying breaths. _It is…unsettling… for a Vulcan mind, to say the least. And my previous experiences did nothing to facilitate my acceptance of such an unnatural state-of-being for a Vulcan._

"Those damn small caliber munitions." Trip felt a gust of amusement cross their bond as T'Pol recognized his oblique reference to their discussion from the previous night.

_Indeed._ She appreciated his ability to keep the memories of Tolaris, Silik, and Rajiin from growing into dominance, somewhat surprised his human mind could compartmentalize them so easily and completely.

Trip lifted his head and stared down at her. He shifted to spear his hands into her hair and cup her head, scratching lightly at her scalp. "You could just ask me for help, ya know?" He smiled wryly. "That kind of disorientation is kind of universal."

T'Pol nodded again. _I will attempt to do so._ She pulled him down to rest flush against her and rolled them to the side so she could snuggle into his chest.

Trip rested his chin on top of her head. "Is Soval coming back today?"

_Yes, but not until this afternoon._

"You up for going to the mess hall for breakfast?"

There was a long pause before T'Pol murmured hesitantly, "Not yet."

_Ok, but I'm bringing something back for you, so don't even try arguing. _

T'Pol sighed. "Very well." She climbed out of his embrace and the bunk and began to light candles in preparation for meditation.

Trip followed her out of the bunk and headed for the shower. He was rinsing the shampoo out of his hair when he felt her mind sink into the half-relaxed state he associated with her current attempts to meditate without him. It was the equivalent of running the warp drive on only four injectors. You could do it, but the ride was bumpy, nowhere near as fast, and bound to breakdown.

He quickly finished washing up and drying off, and passed by her quietly to grab clean clothes. He observed her silently as he dressed, noting the minute furrow to her brow, the dark circles under her eyes. Though he knew she was better today than she was two days ago, he still worried about her. It wasn't exactly something he could help. Once dressed, he crossed to the door, pausing only to lightly brush the tips of two fingers softly down her cheek, like a gentle breeze upon her face, before exiting her quarters.

Upon entering the mess, Trip immediately headed for coffee.

"Commander."

Trip looked over his shoulder and saw Malcolm standing behind him with an empty coffee mug. "How's it going, Mal?"

"I should be asking you that, mate," Reed muttered as he took his turn at the resequencer. "Coffee, black."

Trip sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "'Bout like you'd expect, I guess. I'm just taking it one day at a time." He gazed sightlessly across the room, part of his mind drifting to T'Pol's. "Meditatin' a bunch."

Malcolm frowned. "You? Meditating? Whatever for?" He took a sip from his mug. "And since when?"

"It's kind of a long story, Malcolm." Trip quickly made his breakfast selections and piled them on a tray.

"You fancy sitting down with a bloke and telling it?" Malcolm gestured to a table where his own partially-eaten breakfast remained.

Trip hesitated.

_I will be fine, Adun. There is no need to neglect your friendships._

_It's not you I'm worried about, darlin'. Just not sure I'm up to playing "Twenty Questions." _Trip looked down at his tray, his lips twisting into a wry smile. _Besides, nothing against him, but I much prefer your company over his._

"Trip?" Malcolm tried to get the engineer's wandering attention. "You alright?"

_Tell him you will only answer three of his twenty questions._

_Does that last one count?_

Trip's smile widened at the rush of amusement sent by his Vulcan. He looked over and caught Reed's puzzled expression. "What?"

"I asked if you were alright. You sort of zoned out there for a minute."

"Yeah, I'm fine. Let's go sit." Trip followed Malcolm to his table and sat down across from him, looking disinterestedly down at his meal.

"So when did you start meditating, and why?" Malcolm asked before taking an enormously large bite from his jam-covered toast.

Trip listlessly nibbled at his cantaloupe. He methodically chewed and swallowed it. "Since the day after Elizabeth died." Trip pushed his plate away, his appetite quickly disappearing. "It's helping." He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes when he felt a rush of grief crash over both his own and T'Pol's psyches. He lifted his head a few moments later and resumed picking at his breakfast.

Malcolm looked on with sympathy. "Paxton deserves much worse than he's getting, that's for sure."

"You'll get no argument from me," Trip grunted. He began eating a bit faster when he felt T'Pol's remaining psychological and neurological injectors start to fail.

Reed watched in fascination as Trip began shoveling food in his mouth with no evidence of care or interest in tasting any of it. Considering how apathetic he was when he first sat down, the Lieutenant was confused. "I'm not real proficient at the Heimlich Maneuver, Trip. Take care you don't choke."

Trip gulped his coffee to wash down his meal. "Sorry, Mal. I promised T'Pol I'd bring her some breakfast" he obfuscated. He piled his dishes back on his tray and rose from his chair.

"You've been stuck like glue to her for days now." Malcolm murmured the insinuation over the rim of his mug.

Trip dropped the tray back down with a clatter. He closed his eyes and took a deep, steadying breath. "Do you know how Vulcans grieve, Lieutenant?" he ground out between clenched teeth.

Reed quickly realized he might have just stepped out of line. "No, sir. I don't."

"They meditate…and meditate…" Trip opened his eyes and pinned the security officer down with a rarely-used glare. "…and meditate. It is the _**only**_ method they have for dealing with grief."

Malcolm swallowed reflexively. "I apologize, Commander. I had no right to imply anything untoward between the two of you."

Trip unclenched his jaw. "No. You didn't." He picked up his tray and took a stride away, only to stop at Reed's shoulder. "For the record, Lieutenant, a meditation partner greatly facilitates the process. It's even why Ambassador Soval came up yesterday." He took another deep breath then leaned down into Reed's personal space. "She is my best friend, Malcolm. There is _**nothing**_ I wouldn't do for her. Meditation is _**cake**__._"

A subdued and chastised Lieutenant Malcolm Reed watched Commander Tucker dispose of his tray and stalk out of the mess hall, absently noting that he took only a tea bag with him; presumably Commander T'Pol's promised "breakfast."

--- --- --- --- ---

It took an hour and a half of joint meditation, followed by a half hour of cuddling before Trip and T'Pol felt strong enough to visit Dr. Phlox. Both were feeling a trifle worn down, and it was only 0830 hours.

_Are you feeling better?_

_Me?_ Disbelief was evident on Trip's features.

_You were angry with Lieutenant Reed._

Trip sighed. _Not angry. More like frustrated. Mostly upset 'cause him bringing up Paxton bothered you. And that just made what he insinuated about you seem more out of line than it probably was._

As they approached the doors to sickbay, T'Pol glanced over to him. "Do you recall a conversation we had, while in the Expanse, regarding the crew's propensity to gossip about our relationship?"

Trip frowned. "Sure."

"Do you recall the nature of my position on the subject?"

Trip stopped and planted his hands on his hips. _You said, as senior officers, if we were involved in a relationship it wouldn't be anyone's concern._

_It wouldn't be any of __**Lieutenant Reed's**__ concern._

"Right."

T'Pol reached out to open the doors to sickbay and looked at him over her shoulder as she entered. "It still isn't."

Trip followed after her, deep in thought, a bemused expression on his face.

--- --- --- --- ---

When Trip again regained focus on his surroundings, he found himself sitting next to T'Pol, ensconced in Phlox's office, and no recollection of getting there.

_I guided you here._

Trip merely nodded in acceptance, still somewhat distracted by his previous thoughts.

_What is troubling you?_

Trip leaned back in his chair and sighed. _It's __**all **__small stuff._

T'Pol frowned.

_I'll explain later._

_Very well._

Dr. Phlox settled behind his desk and waited for one of them to clue him in on the reason for their visit.

Trip glanced to T'Pol. "What first?"

Phlox's eyes opened wide.

T'Pol tipped her head to the side. _The bond. Knowing of its presence will facilitate the doctor's assistance in the other matter._

Trip nodded once again before turning back to the ever watchful Denobulan. "T'Pol and I share a permanent Vulcan mating bond," he stated bluntly.

Phlox evinced no shock or surprise; he merely nodded calmly and clasped his hands together atop his desk.

T'Pol lifted an elegant brow. "You knew."

The doctor smiled somewhat sheepishly. "To one aware of the existence of such things, there were…signs."

"And you never let on…" Trip quietly murmured in admiration.

Phlox focused on T'Pol as he explained. "It has been my experience that Vulcan pathology and pathobiology are inherently private."

"You are also aware of the social implications?" T'Pol calmly inquired.

Phlox glanced over to Trip and smiled before answering. "I am. That, too, is a matter of doctor/patient confidentiality."

The diminutive Vulcan tipped her head in acknowledgement. "We appreciate your discretion."

Trip nodded vigorously. "What she said."

Dr. Phlox sighed in rueful consternation. "I will, of course, need to get new baselines for the both of you. The mind and body are so inter-connected in Vulcan pathobiology, your bond is sure to be a factor in future diagnoses and treatments."

Trip frowned and tugged playfully at his ear. "Not Vulcan."

"Your mate is. And without her, we would not be having this discussion."

Trip's lips twitched. "Yeah, I'm an idiot. Good point, Doc."

Phlox smiled gently. "Was there more you wished to discuss before we commence your exams?"

Trip glanced over at his wife. _Exams first?_

_Most definitely._

"You should probably do what you need to do to get your baselines now," Trip cautioned. "We're probably gonna need to meditate right after our visit."

It was Phlox who sported a frown this time. "I see," though he clearly didn't.

--- --- --- --- ---

Approximately forty-five minutes later, the three of them were once again seated in the Denobulan doctor's office. Phlox sat and looked at the pair of them with an air of expectation on his face.

T'Pol sat ramrod straight, eyes downcast, and waited for her bondmate to begin.

In contrast to his Vulcan, Trip slumped back in his chair, legs stretched out in front, entwined hands resting on his belly. He sighed deeply. "So did you find anything wrong with us?"

"Wrong?" Phlox's eyes widened perceptibly. "Not at all. There were changes, naturally, but I wouldn't call them _wrong_." He gave them a brief overview of his findings and advised them not to worry.

"Hadn't even occurred to us to worry 'bout that, Doc. We'd probably know before you anyway…if something was wrong," Trip remarked softly. "So we weren't."

Phlox's features softened. "Then why don't you tell me what's really bothering you, Commander."

Trip looked down at his hands and began to fidget lightly. "I need to know _exactly_ what the Trellium abuse did to T'Pol," he requested quietly.

Phlox glanced over to _Enterprise's_ First Officer before answering, "The synaptic pathways to the emotional centers of her brain have been irrevocably compromised."

Trip cleared his throat. "Yeah, she already told me that. What I _don't_ know is what any of that actually _means._"

Phlox nodded. "Ah, yes. You are familiar with the concept of "stepping stones" in a stream or river?"

"Sure." Trip's brow furrowed in concentration.

Phlox smiled and continued, "Well, for the purpose of this explanation, there are "streams" in a Vulcan's mind; their emotions. At a very early age, Vulcans are trained to create stepping stones in their minds to facilitate the crossing of those emotional streams. Those stones are their synaptic pathways. They make controlling the "streams" easier, yes?"

Trip shrugged. "Makes sense."

"Yes," Phlox murmured, "but Trellium targets the emotional centers of the Vulcan brain. Commander T'Pol's use of Trellium eroded many of those pathways. She, in essence, removed those stepping stones."

"So she can't cross the streams," Trip muttered.

"Oh, she _**can**_. She just has to jump in and _**wade**_ across the streams now."

T'Pol took that moment to break into the discussion, a somewhat plaintive tone in her voice. "May I remind you, Trip? The planet Vulcan is a _**desert**_."

--- --- --- --- ---

Trip stood at the airlock and raised his hand in a split-fingered greeting when Ambassador Soval stepped through. "Live long and prosper, Tela'at."

Soval raised a brow at the surprisingly decent pronunciation and lifted his hand in response. "Peace and long life, Commander."

Trip smirked and gestured for the Vulcan to walk with him down the corridor. "Yeah, I've been practicing."

"Your efforts are commendable." Indeed Soval continued to be impressed by the young man whose interest in Vulcan culture and proclivities never faltered. Soval subtly gave the engineer a once-over. "You appear to be somewhat weary, however. Is my visit ill-timed?"

"No," Trip ruefully denied. "It's just been a draining day. Your help will, more than likely, help _**both**_ of us today."

Soval's brows twitched. "I am pleased to be of assistance." His eyes immediately sought out T'Pol once Commander Tucker opened the door to her quarters. He found her already sitting before her meditation table, a candle flickering gently on top.

"Greetings, T'Pol-kan."

"Be welcome, En'ahr'at."

Without further ado, the three assumed the same positioning as the previous evening. Trip settled self-consciously behind T'Pol, resting his hands lightly at her waist.

Soval eyed the newly-bonded pair, easily noting the shadows under both sets of eyes, the slight slump in their postures. He met T'Pol's gaze. "Has the day been as draining for you as it has for Commander Tucker?"

T'Pol tipped her head slightly to the left. "Yes, but also enlightening."

"Indeed? How so?"

"Though I cannot say for certain without his clarification, I believe my adun has been unwittingly ruminating for most of the day on the third tenet to achieving balance in the Vulcan mating bond."

Trip leaned over her right shoulder. "I've been doing what?"

T'Pol turned her head to meet his gaze. "When you said 'it's _**all**_ small stuff,' what did you mean?"

Trip reached up and rubbed his forehead. "Ummm…humans have a saying. You've probably heard it once or twice in the last four years. 'Don't sweat the small stuff.' Does that sound familiar?"

T'Pol nodded. "I have heard this phrase. 'Do not belabor life's minute details.' That is its meaning?"

"Right," Trip confirmed. "But that's not the entire saying. The whole thing goes like this: 'Don't sweat the small stuff. And it's _**all**_ small stuff'."

T'Pol turned back to Soval. "I was correct," she stated with satisfaction.

Soval's brows rose high on his forehead. "Fascinating."

Trip scowled mightily, his confusion readily apparent. "Someone want to tell me what I did?"

Frankly, Soval was amazed. "You have unknowingly grasped the properties of the third tenet in its most basic form. You are a remarkable human, Commander." Had Soval hand-picked a mate for T'Pol, he had no doubt he wouldn't have been able to come close to finding someone as worthy as this human.

"Well, what's the third tenet?"

T'Pol again met Trip's gaze and held out her hand, paired fingers extended. "All is surmountable."

Trip automatically reached out with his own, savoring the sweet rush of feelings as their fingertips brushed together. "That's it? 'All is surmountable'?"

"Yes." T'Pol's lips twitched. She held out her other hand, and in it was a PADD she'd had hidden within her robes. "Are you required to take notes?"

Trip's mouth fell open in shock. "Oh. My. God." A grin slowly spread across his face. "No sense of humor…my _**ass**_."

END

10/03/08


	7. Tucker Tenets

**Tucker Tenets**

By Eian Flannagan

Disclaimer: Paramount owns the sandbox. I'm just taking a shovel to it.

Spoilers: Just about anything in Seasons 3 & 4.

Archive: None without author's permission

**NOTE: Italics will represent mental conversation between Mr. Tucker and his bonded mate, T'Pol of Vulcan, unless they appear in the midst of a Tucker Monologue.**

--- --- --- --- ---

"_Change has a considerable psychological impact on the human mind. To the fearful it is threatening because it means that things may get worse. To the hopeful it is encouraging because things may get better. To the confident it is inspiring because the challenge exists to make things better." _

--- King Whitney, Jr.

--- --- --- --- ---

Ok, two things. One, I absolutely suck at journal writing, speaking, whatever. The 'Dear Diary' thing was never my strong suit. You'll have to cut me some slack 'cause I'm just gonna ramble. Two, any conversation you and I have right now? Not private. She's gonna hear it _all_.

This lack of privacy thing actually isn't as big a deal as I thought it was going to be.

Really.

_Ashayam._

Hear that? Of course you can't, but it's just what I was talking about. That thought? Not mine. It belongs to that luscious, green-blooded gal I'm bonded with.

_Adun._

_T'Pol._

_This exercise is practically schizophrenic._

She's funny, this one. But you'd absolutely never know it just interacting with her day-to-day. She's a bigger cut-up than me, if you want my opinion.

_That is a preposterous implication. Vulcans do not "cut-up."_

And for the record, I want you to know that humans haven't cornered the market on denial. Vulcans do that one better than us---any day of the week and twice on Sunday. Don't let my Vulcan tell you different. That'd just be another example of her absolute _mastery_ of the art.

_*sigh*_

She's sighing at me like she doesn't know I'm right. See, this is where I think Marcus Aurelius was really short-sighted. He said, "The universe is change; our life is what our thoughts make it." Good ole Marcus said 'universe,' but I'm pretty sure he wasn't talking about the planet Vulcan. This bond stuff puts that idea on a whole other level.

_It is highly improbable to expect someone to envision a Vulcan mating bond at a time when nearly all humans thought your planet was flat._

I'm taking a deep breath here because this is one of those times when she _knows_ that's not what I meant but decides to 'tweak' me anyway.

_If I'm not mistaken, he wasn't even referring to anything beyond Earth's atmosphere, was he?_

Something else to remember, for the record. I don't win many arguments with my Vulcan mate. It's always a battle of wits. The problem is that I come armed with my hand phaser, and she's totin' Malcolm's phase cannons. Disproportionate, you say? Yeah, well…she's working with a higher budget than the rest of us.

Now she's doing that 'laughing-in-her-head' thing. How fantastic is that? You are sooooo missing out by not hearing it.

She and Soval have been teaching me about this mating bond. They're tellin' me there's a ton of…well, they call 'em 'tenets'… that will help us achieve a balance within it. So they've been droppin' 'em on me a little at a time. Turns out…I do okay there. Who knew?

'Course, I have to translate 'em into something I can easily understand, but that hasn't been a problem yet. T'Pol's making the whole thing pretty easy. And I _know_ it's only because she can now tell when I don't 'get it.' So she sorta 'dumbs it down' for me from the jump.

_Are you implying that I find you lacking in intelligence?_

_Not what I said. Not what I meant. I __**know**__ you don't think I'm stupid._

Another thing I'd like entered into the record books is that just because we're in each other's heads doesn't mean we've stopped havin' misunderstandin's. What. Ever. You see, species aside, we're still fundamentally different people. And we don't just go dumpster divin' into each other's minds to look for the hidden treasure. There's an innate trust there that prevents us from trespassin' just to get to the best fishin' hole.

_Are you attempting to discover how many metaphors you can mix and make use of at one time?_

You know what? I think it's time I create some tenets of my own. I think the first one should be **"Thou shalt not torture thy human husband with witty Vulcan repartee before thy human husband has opportunity to adequately arm himself."** Just so you folks know… I'm callin' it a 'tenet' 'cause I'd probably get her to actually laugh _**out loud**_ if I called it a 'commandment.'

_You okay, darlin'? You're not chokin', are ya?_

"…"

So you know how humans do their livin', right? We get right out there, stick our thumbs in all kinds of pies, make a mess, clean it up? Shout, cry, laugh, love. We're out there _**doing**_. Loudly. We _**live.**_ Loudly. Know what I mean? Vulcans are different. To us humans, they seem to be a pretty boring species, all things considered. But that's just it, though. We don't consider 'all things.' They don't need to splash around in everyone else's murky waters. And they don't need to make any noise. First, they live practically forever---

_Adun._

---what I mean is---they live a really long time, so they'll probably see everyone else's swampland anyway, just might be on accident is all. No need to go lookin'. Second, and this is the biggie…they do all their livin' upstairs. Again, what I mean is…the living room in your house is typically on the main level, right? Along with the kitchen, dining room, etc. So when guests come over, your main living spaces are right up front, out in the open for all to see and trample through. That's human. A Vulcan's living spaces, however, are all tucked away upstairs…where you have to be _**invited**_ in to see.

_That analogy, while convoluted, is not entirely inaccurate._

_Gee, thanks._

Anyway, if you ever get invited to see those spaces? Man! Jump on that opportunity like a damn trampoline. You sure as hell won't regret it, and the ride's kinda the same. You'll see in a big, fat hurry that Vulcans and humans aren't so different. T'Pol and I? We're not just Vulcan and human. We're not logic and emotion. We're not her and him. We're just _us_. That's gonna be my second tenet, I think. Sounds like a tenet, right? Yeah. **"We're just us."**

_It has merit as a 'tenet' and is far superior to your first precept._

_You just hush._

This mating bond is good for a lot of things, but the one I find most useful is the access it gives me to T'Pol's emotions. A common misconception held by non-Vulcans is that they have none. I used to think that way, too. But I came to realize that was a shuttlepod full of crap a couple years ago. She can't deny havin' 'em anymore because I feel 'em, too.

_To deny that which you are already cognizant of would be illogical, ashayam._

Lord! I'm not saying she _would_ deny havin' 'em, mind you. Just that she couldn't if she _wanted_ to. Ya know…it's a damn shame you folks can't hear all the commentary from the Peanut Gallery. Sheesh!

So this access to her emotions makes judgin' her moods a breeze. Like I can tell right now she'd be okay with me talking 'bout Elizabeth. Some days she's not, but today is a good day.

I don't need to tell ya all 'bout that whole thing. I'm sure you've already read 'bout it in our After-Action Reports, the Captain's log, the ships' logs, Malcolm's security logs, or Phlox's medical logs. Hell, Porthos probably has a damn log on it.

What you don't already know is that T'Pol and I are mostly doin' okay. I hurt. No denyin' that. T'Pol, too. More'n me, actually. But each day is better than the one before, and we take each day together. We have to. 'Cause I know sure as I'm sitting in this Jeffries tube that 'together' is the only way we'll get through it.

_You still okay?_

_I am well._

_Cool._

T'Pol and I are basically married. Soval and Phlox are the only ones who know. We're not sure when we're gonna tell the Cap'n or anyone else. See, I feel the same way as T'Pol on this. It's no one else's business. I want to tell my mom and dad, but that's 'bout it.

That big sigh you just heard was me. I'm ambivalent 'bout tellin' the Cap'n. Jon and I used to be real good friends. Best friends, you could say. The problem is…we're not anymore. We're not even really 'friends.' He and I have both changed a lot in the last couple years. The friendship I have with T'Pol has kinda shown me that what Jon and I had was kid stuff. And I'm not talkin' 'bout 'cause T'Pol and I are married, either. We were friends long before we bonded. What we have is a maturity that I don't think Jon and I could even conceptualize. He and I were like a cops and robbers-cowboys and Indians in the woods-behind the house-kind of thing. That's what it was like. Hell, I think I'm closer to Malcolm than Jon nowadays. Anyway…I don't know how that whole thing's gonna play out.

_How long have you felt this way?_

_Awhile. Can we talk about it later?_

_Of course._

We haven't been hidin' the fact that I spend every night in her quarters, either. It's bound to be noticed at some point. Thing is, I'm not sure how much I care. It's not like we're gonna let 'em separate us. Soval would help with that, I think. T'Pol and I probably need to talk to him 'bout it before we go tellin' the Starfleet-types anything. Including Jon.

_Does that work for you?_

_It does. It is a surprisingly logical idea._

_Yeah, who knew?_

So understandin' T'Pol more has helped me to better understand Vulcans, in general. I could probably hold a long conversation with one now without wantin' to smack 'em. Because now I get where their coming from. Mostly. Sometimes I'm still lost, but I have my very own, personal, Vulcan Rand McNally. And she's a beaut. Latest edition and everything.

_Adun._

_I'll explain later._

_*sigh*_

Most Vulcans think the same way, so if I try to figure out how _T'Pol _would think of something, I can normally figure out how the conversation should go. Not all of 'em exist at Vulcan-normal, though. Some in a good way. Like Kov. I really liked that guy. Others don't play with a full deck, even considering Vulcan decks are fuller than most. Like that goddamn Tolaris cretin.

Cretin? Who am I kidding? Musta got that one from T'Pol. I don't even know that word.

_Definitely schizophrenic._

_Shut it, lady._

T'Pol's mom was a genius.

_Are you chokin' again?_

Where was I? Oh, yeah. T'Pol's mom. She told me that even though Vulcans suppress their emotions, they were still sensitive to 'em. Then she reminded T'Pol that she'd always struggled with hers. I would've liked knowin' her better. She was---

Whoa! Gotta go, folks. It's been ten damn long days, and the woman is _finally_ hungry!

Hot damn! Feed me, Seymour! Feed me all night long!

_Seymour?_

_Little Shop of Horrors. Never mind. Just meet me in the mess hall._

_Very well._

See, lately with her it's been all 'Feed me, Sey-_less_. Hopefully, that's history. In fact, that's gotta be another Tucker Tenet, right there. **"Feed me, Seymour! Feed me all night long!"**

_You have fallen into inanity, ashayam. _

_Yeah, well. I'm a little tired, I guess._

_Are you nearly finished?_

_I'm thinkin' so._

Ok. I'm just gonna say this. I'm human. I've got my front door wide open. Come on in, and make yourself at home. T'Pol is Vulcan. With her big 'Keep Out' and 'No Trespassing' signs. She's gonna keep tryin' to suppress her emotions. She pretty much has to. But ever since I got that direct communications line to her psyche, I'm okay with that.

'Sides, I don't want anyone else to see her 'upstairs.' Those living spaces are hers.

And now mine, too.

Keep Out.

Beware of Dog.

Enter At Your Own Risk.

Authorized Personnel Only.

_I am sure they 'get it,' Adun._

_Well…I'm just makin' sure._

_Schizophrenic. __**Positively**__ schizophrenic._

_*sigh* Shut it._

--- --- ---

END

10/20/08


	8. Cheated

**Cheated**

By Eian Flannagan

Disclaimer: Paramount owns the sandbox. I'm just taking a shovel to it.

Spoilers: Maybe none, but just about anything in Seasons 3 & 4 is fair game.

Summary: The eighth story in the **Happy Medium Universe**; fifth and last of the _Achieving Balance Arc_. Would probably help you out if you read the prior seven…T'Pol gives the whole thing some thought.

Archive: Only with author's permission.

NOTE: Italics will represent mental conversation between bonded mates unless otherwise part of a narration or an obvious verbal dialogue.

**Cheated**

By Eian Flannagan

I struggle daily with control. And I truly have no one to blame but myself. I may have been violated by Tolaris, Silik, and Rajiin, but my struggle is not their fault. I was the one who chose to access my emotions in the most dangerous of fashions. And though I regret the damage done to myself and for the harm I placed upon others during my selfish experiment, I cannot regret some of the doors opened to me by the Trellium.

I need him.

In the most _emotional_ of ways, I need him. Being Vulcan, I find this largely unacceptable. It chafes against my upbringing in untold measure, this uncomfortable emotional dependence upon another. That my emotions play such a dominant role in my life chafes against what I know of my lifelong teachings. And I am unable to master all of these emotions without his assistance. And so I struggle.

And thus…my need of him.

That I depend upon a human leaves me unable to reconcile my distant past with my more recent. I am also left with an inability to know what role logic will play in my future…for it _must_. And that is the balance _**I**_ must find in this relationship. The resulting chaos in my mind disturbs me greatly, but I cannot find in me any regret.

In the most _fundamental_ of ways...I need him. He is my bondmate. And were it possible to change such, I would not. He fills in me a void I had not known was present. He cares for me. He protects me. He gives me space when I need it, holds me close when I do not. He fulfills my desires, anticipates my needs. He does this heedless of any objections I may offer, and I have finally come to a place where I do not feel compelled to resist his every overture.

Because I realize those are _**his**_ needs, I believe it is my obligation as his bondmate to attempt to meet them.

Honesty compels me to admit that I _want_ to meet his needs if for no other reason than because I cherish him. Allowing him to care for me in the ways he feels most comfortable is a compromise I make in my efforts to achieve our balance. I find it fascinating that his efforts to achieve balance in our relationship are mostly _proactive_ while mine are largely _reactive_. It says much about who we are as individuals, as well as what we are becoming as a pair-bond.

He respects me. And, more importantly, he respects the _Vulcan_ in me. I am Vulcan and have no desire to be otherwise. Even though I struggle for emotional control nearly every moment, I am Vulcan. I think in Vulcan ways, I participate in Vulcan habits, traditions and rituals. Because I sought to access my emotions does not mean I desired to be _less_ Vulcan. He knows and understands this. That alone gives me the strength to seek the balance between logic and my emotions. And it is with his care and understanding that I shall succeed, for I have met no other human who strives to understand Vulcan ways as much as this one. He honors me.

He also continues to vex and infuriate me, though not nearly as often as he once did. Our bond, while helpful, does not always lead to understanding. I have spent four years in painfully close association with humans. Nevertheless, I find him to be so incomprehensibly _alien_ at times. If I fail to meet him for a neuropressure session due to experiments I'm performing in the science labs, he is forgiving. If I fail to meet him for dinner _for the same reason_, he is furious. Evidently, he is very particular about my eating habits.

Aggravating, perplexing human.

He sleeps now, his face pressed against my abdomen. Some of his more unspoken desires were finally met tonight, and he is now thoroughly exhausted. This pleases me even while I, too, am experiencing a profound fatigue. I sit here on our bed attempting unsuccessfully to meditate. Whether it is my own lassitude or the volume of thoughts rampaging across my cerebral cortex or simply the feel of his head in my lap, I am unable to reach the mental calm required for meditation. Since I can do nothing more than reflect on recent events, I feel a need to relish in his intimacy for yet a while longer before giving in to my own need for rest.

It has taken many months for me to allow myself to, once again, experience the disorientation that comes with recreational sexual relations with him. And many weeks to grow comfortable enough within our bond to participate in such intimacy with my husband. From what I know of human males, his patience has been extraordinary.

It was both less and more than I expected.

Less in that I was expecting to be severely overwhelmed in both a mental and an emotional capacity…nearly to the point of detraction. And in some respects, I certainly was. It was not a "comfortable" experience by any means. And I doubt it will ever become so due solely to the sheer volume of thoughts and sensations shared between us. But as he has previously alluded, I was not alone. Our bond made it possible for me to see and understand that _**he**_ was just as overwhelmed as I. For reasons I am as yet unable to determine, it was easier for me to focus on _his_ difficulties rather than my own. In so doing, my disorientation began to diminish. And with that obstacle eliminated, I was free to focus only on feelings and pleasure---both his and my own.

As a Vulcan, I still grapple with the logic in engaging in sexual relations for the sole purpose of pleasure and/or intimacy. It is anathema to the traditional role sexual relations play in a Vulcan's lifespan. But my life as a Vulcan is far from traditional. I do not have a traditional career, traditional friendships, a traditional husband. I have managed to rationalize the desire for recreational sexual relations with my husband. Though it is illogical to engage in such, to deny doing something that will only strengthen our bond is ridiculous and equally without logic.

I have come to this conclusion because our time together this evening was also more than I expected. I am not immune to the fact that my husband is considered an attractive member of his species. I have finally reached a place within myself where I can acknowledge that I am, indeed, as supremely attracted to him on a physical level as I am the mental and emotional. How was I to know that physical attraction could actually enhance the experience? It's not as though the possibility was ever mentioned when my mother explained such things to me so many years ago. What I learned tonight, however, is that the physical attraction only impacts me at the outset of our recreations. For it was not long before my mind sought his and the cerebral became our "playground."

There is something to be said for knowing, with absolute certainty, that your mate finds you beautiful. I had never before given this thought any credence, as it had always seemed…irrelevant. That is no longer the case for me. It is not that I was previously unaware of my husband's awareness of me, of my features, of my body. There have been many occasions when he has been unable to hide it. And there is a large part of me that still finds it to be of little consequence. What I no longer find irrelevant, however, is how beautiful he believes my _mind_ to be. It is yet one more aspect of our union I find difficult to reconcile, but it seems too…_precious_…to discount.

We are each separately, and together, achieving a balance in this relationship. While our pace is somewhat slow, it is also steady and encouraging.

I cannot help but run my hand through the silky hair atop his head. It is very fine. An odd accompaniment to the strength I find in him. His musculature. His understanding. His kindness. His devotion to me. These are each a powerful presence, each such an innate part of him. And yet, he is covered by the smoothest, softest, and finest down. I find it endlessly fascinating and am continually captivated by the contrast.

Lately, he has been consumed by thoughts whereby he feels our relationship is not "fair" to me. It is perplexing to me how he can think such while, at the same time, knowing my thoughts on the subject. Yet he continues to fixate on what he feels are the years of life I am being denied by being bonded to a human mate.

He thinks I do not know.

But I am deeply aware of his sadness at the very real possibility that I may die when he does. He believes I am being slighted. He uses a most peculiar human colloquialism. He feels as though I am being…

"Cheated, T'Pol. Yer bein' cheated," he mumbles aloud to me before burrowing deeper into my embrace.

_**Sleep, ashayam. Sleep**_. Even in slumber he is attuned to me. It is unlike anything I had ever imagined or ever knew to covet. How he believes our being mated is unfair to me…when he sheds light into so many of my darkest places…is completely unfathomable.

Ridiculous. Exasperating. Dichotomous. Intractable.

_Human_.

And I need him.

Every day. In every way.

I need him.

END

04/26/10


End file.
